


What Baking Can Do

by m_reann_t



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Doctor!Sakusa, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Infidelity, Inspired by Waitress - Bareilles/Nelson, M/M, Not Beta Read, baker!Atsumu, they're both bisexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28393353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_reann_t/pseuds/m_reann_t
Summary: Looking for a way out of his shitty job, and his even shittier marriage, Miya Atsumu sees a pie baking contest and its prize money as his chance to escape.(Or: Miya Atsumu follows his boyfriend to Tokyo at eighteen, but soon realises that not everyone with a mediocre voice and the ability to strum a guitar makes it big. Using skills he learned from his brother, he manages to snag a job as a baker. But after dislocating his shoulder he begins an affair with his new doctor, Sakusa Kiyoomi.ft. Kagehina and Bokuaka.)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Miya Atsumu/Original Male Character(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 91





	1. Opening Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was watching Waitress and decided I wanted a Sakuatsu AU. No prior knowledge of Waitress is needed. This is entirely self indulgent, so we'll see how it goes.
> 
> Warnings:  
> -This work contains references to domestic abuse so please be wary  
> -Infidelity? Should I put a warning for that? Idk I guess I will  
> -And dubcon (Atsumu implies that he only sleeps with his husband if said husband gets him drunk)
> 
> I wrote this at 2 am... Enjoy!!

Miya Atsumu stretched his left arm above his head as he grabbed the ingredients he needed from the pantry. He moved on auto-pilot, as he ignored the throbbing in his right shoulder, and hastily fumbled for the sugar and the butter.

Atsumu was by far the best baker in the diner (although he could barely hold a flame to his brothers skilled hands. He recalled how they would crimp the edges of the masterpieces Osamu created during school breaks, when the two of them could waste away under the golden sun, but chose to spend their time in the kitchen, or on the volleyball court. Atsumu desperately tried to recreate his brothers technique with his own baking), and was often tasked with coming up with the pie of the day each morning. 

Which was why he was in the Jackals diner, three hours before opening, pouring the exact amount of flour he needed into a mixing bowl. It seemed the only thing getting Atsumu through the process was muscle memory, and the small chant of 'sugar, butter, flour' echoing in the back of his mind.

Atsumu frowned at the dull, golden glint of his wedding ring. It pinched his ring finger tightly. When he looked at it, he was always reminded him of tighter-than-necessary handcuffs, and he scoffed to himself. "Piece of shit," he muttered, glaring down at it as he tried to pull it past his knuckles, "Why is it that ya seem to get tighter every damn day?"

Atsumu would have laughed at the similarities between his ring and the man who had given it to him, had a sharp pain not shot through his injured shoulder. It was like a reminder that he couldn't think about his husband without feeling some sort of pain, that laughing was out of the picture.

The ring popped off Atsumu's finger after he decided to put his full strength into it. He felt another stab of pain through his right shoulder, but he didn't have time to worry about that at the moment.

Atsumu wasn't unhappy working as a pastry chef in an American-Style-Diner, but it wasn't where he had planned to end up. In high school, he had dreams of going pro. His volleyball skills were unmatched by most his age, and his team was a favourite to win Nationals each year he competed. He had even been scouted to play on a Division One team straight after graduation. 

But this, as fate would have it, was around that time when he had met Yoshimi. And a badly timed bisexual awakening and an adolescent brain convinced Atsumu that Yoshimi was worth giving up everything he had worked so hard for. And it had felt like it, too. Until Atsumu packed his bags, said goodbye to his family and left for Tokyo, following Yoshimi and his band with no money and no where to stay. 

Atsumu glared at his wedding ring once again as he gently placed the pastry he had just made into a pie tin, and began to start working on the filling. 

He heard excited chatter from the front of the Diner, and shot a quick glance out of the kitchen door. Some of his colleagues had started to trickle in to start their shifts, and Atsumu couldn't help the soft smile that spread across his face as he caught sight of vibrant ginger hair, before turning back to the filling he was making.

The door slammed open, and Hinata Shouyou's light-up-a-room grin greeted Atsumu from the door frame.

"'Tsumu!" He said with a smile, looking into the bowl in front of him, "What's on the menu for today's Pie of the Day?"

Atsumu pocketed his wedding ring before Hinata's enthusiasm knocked it off his work bench, "Deep Shit Blueberry Bacon," He answered, feeling the weight of the gold band in his pocket.

"... Deep Shit?" Hinata laughed, and stuck his fingers in the blueberry mixture before putting them in his mouth.

"Dish. I meant Deep Dish," Atsumu corrected himself as Hinata wiped his hand on his black and gold uniform. Even though Hinata was the chef, and was asked to wear white, he preferred feeling 'like part of the team', and opted for the waiters uniform instead. Atsumu thought it was cute.

Hinata shot him a smile, "Shit or not, it tastes good!"

Atsumu smiled lazily as Hinata started prepping the breakfast meals, "Thanks, Shou-kun." 

Despite the pain in his shoulder, and the heaviness of his heart, Hinata Shouyou always seemed to make him feel that much lighter, and was one of the few things he actually enjoyed in Tokyo.

It didn't take long for Atsumu to finish making the mornings pies. Although he preferred total silence while he worked, Hinata's presence made it less of a chore and more of something to do with his hands while they talked. With the light conversation pushing them forward, it felt like no time at all had passed when one of the waiters, Bokuto Koutarou, popped his head into the kitchen with a happy, "Hey, hey hey! Opening up!"

Atsumu cleaned the space he was working in quickly, and moved around the kitchen with the elegance of a former volleyball prodigy, dodging waiters and waitresses and slicing the pies that had finished cooling.

Hinata handed a waiter a coffee pot as he walked through the kitchen door, "Now, I want that coffee strong enough to chew, Kageyama-kun!"

Kageyama Tobio frowned down at Hinata's cheeky smile, "Does your ass ever get jealous of all the crap that comes out of your mouth, moron?"

Hinata stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry in reply, "Speaking of asses," He said, turning on the hob, "Move yours, you got work to do. See if you can smile when you serve the customers today, maybe you'll get a tip."

Kageyama's face split into an awkward grimace, and Atsumu felt oddly uncomfortable.

"Not like that!" Hinata said, waving a spatula about, "Your face is so scary, Crappyama!"

"Enough foreplay," Atsumu said as he watched the two bicker back and forth, "We need to get to work."

He watched Hinata's cheeks flush red, and cackled to himself while he took off his apron.

As he headed out of the kitchen, Atsumu picked up a pie, and made his way to the display case in the front of the diner. He placed the pie front and centre and on the chalkboard next to it, he wrote the day's specials. With a sigh, he flipped the sign at the door from 'closed' to 'open'.

Throughout the morning, Atsumu continued to feel the strain on his shoulder, and it slowly built from an annoying throb to excruciatingly hard to ignore. His smiles were strained as he greeted the customers, ("Hello, how ya been?") and by the time the owner of the diner, Meian Shugo slipped into his usual booth he was almost wincing with each breath. 

He forced a smile as he walked towards the man, "What'll it be today, Meian-san?" 

Meian looked over at the chalkboard and gestured with his hand, "I'll have your own Deep Dish Blueberry Bacon Pie," He said, reaching for his folded up newspaper, "With scrambled eggs on toast, made on the side with it's own plate," Atsumu had heard this order so many times, he could almost list it off with Meian, but instead jotted it down.

"Is that everything?" Atsumu asked, knowing it wasn't, but he was beginning to feel his stomache turning from standing up with his shoulder aching for so long.

"I also want coffee, but don't bring that first, I want a glass of water first--" 

Atsumu stopped hearing Meian as he gagged quietly with the pain. He grimaced as he swallowed the bile rising in his throat and covered his mouth with his hand.

"Is everything okay?" Meian asked, "Are you sick?"

Atsumu shook his head, and gave the man a shaky echo of his usual confident smirk, "Just feelin' a little queasy."

He rushed away from Meian's table and handed Hinata his order from the kitchen window. He placed a hand on his stomach and winced as it jostled his shoulder.

"Are you okay, Tsum-Tsum?" Bokuto asked, with a worried glance at Hinata.

"Yeah," He replied with a weak thumbs up, "Too much coffee 's'all."

Atsumu doubled over, and slapped his hand across his mouth. He ran to the staff bathroom in a hurry, and heard the footsteps of Bokuto and Hinata following closely behind him.

He dry heaved into the sink before he could reach a stall, and felt a hand rub soft circles across his back. When the soft hand pushed into his shoulder, Atsumu yelped in pain.

"'Tsumu!" Hinata said with a gasp, "Is your shoulder okay?"

Atsumu tried for a confident smile, but caught sight of himself in the mirror and frowned at his clammy, pale skin and sunken eyes.

"'S fine," He said, rinsing his mouth with tap water, "Just something that happened playin' volleyball."

He watched Hinata and Bokuto exchange a glance in the mirror, "We haven't had any time to play all month, though," Bokuto said with a confused tilt of his head, "What really happened?"

Atsumu quickly thought of a new story and shot them a small smile as he turned to face them, "I didn't want to tell ya, in case I corrupted yer innocent little heads," He said with a sigh that he hoped read as a 'but my hands are tied' sigh, "But things got a little steamy with Yoshimi last night and it got a little rough. All in good fun."

Hinata rubbed his hand against Atsumu's shoulder again, and Atsumu sucked in a breath through his teeth. "That feels swollen, 'Tsumu," He said, and pulled at Atsumu's shirt. "Take this off so we can get a better look."

Atsumu raised an eyebrow suggestively, "Oh? Tryna get me ta strip, Shou-kun?"

Hinata's face flushed a little, "No! Just let me see your shoulder!"

Atsumu began to unbotton his shirt with a wink to Hinata, who pushed him lightly in the chest, careful to avoid his injury.

With his chest bare, Bokuto carefully turned him around so he could see the damage, and Atsumu heard his sharp intake of breath. 

"Is it bad?" Atsumu asked, looking at the other two men through the mirror.

"Tsum-Tsum," Bokuto hesitated, "How did this happen? I thought you stopped sleeping with your husband."

Atsumu furrowed his brow, "He got me drunk. I do stupid things when I drink... like sleep with my husband."

Hinata was examining Atsumu's shoulder carefully, "I think it's dislocated," He said with a gentle pat to Atsumu's left arm, "It's swollen and bruised. You probably need to see a doctor."

Atsumu looked at the clock in the bathroom, which read eleven-forty-eight. "I have a lot to do today. I'll put it in a sling and then I'll see if I can go after my shift."

Bokuto nodded at him, "I'll go get you something to wrap your arm in."

Atsumu thanked him as he put back on his shirt, and soon the three of them were walking out of the bathroom, only to be greeted by a pissed off Kageyama.

"Dumbass, you expected me to man the ship while you three were off gossiping?" He said, slapping his hand down onto Hinata's head and pulling on his ginger hair.

"You did fine!" Hinata tried to swing a punch at Kageyama, but Kageyama held him away at arms length with his hand still tangled in the shorter mans hair. "We only have one customer, anyway!"

Atsumu glanced at the near empty diner. The morning rush had passed, and only Meian was still there in his usual booth, his pie eaten and his coffee halfway drank.

Almost as if Hinata had summoned another customer, the bell rang over the door, and Kageyama let go of Hinata's hair.

"I'll get this one," Bokuto volunteered with a broad grin and a slap to his own chest, "Anything to help Tsum-Tsum."

Atsumu was about to thank Bokuto, but he met the customer's eye and he felt his stomach bubble with dread. "That's okay, Bokkun, I'll be fine."

He made his way over to Yoshimi with a smile and a sigh, "What're ya doin' here?" He asked, " I thought ya had work."

Yoshimi raised an eyebrow, "Gave me the day off. The construction place would be nowhere without me, I'm tellin' ya," He explained, "I'll have yer pie for today."

Atsumu quickly went to the kitchen and grabbed a slice of pie with a wary look at Bokuto, who was cleaning down a table that hadn't been used yet that day, and really didn't need cleaning.

Atsumu placed the slice of Blueberry Bacon pie in front of Yoshimi and turned to walk back to the kitchen when Yoshimi's hand grabbed his wrist, "Where's my kiss?" 

"I was just goin' ta get--"

"My kiss?" Yoshimi let go of his hand and strained his neck up towards Atsumu.

Atsumu bit down a 'no, fuck off,' and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. Yoshimi smiled and took a bite out of the pie in front of him. "It's okay," He said eyeing the pie with a raised eyebrow, "Not as good as Osamu's. Remember his? Nothin' better."

"You used ta tell me my pies were so good I could open my own shop," Atsumu said with a strained laugh. The mention of his brother made the Osamu shaped hole in his heart ache, and he felt his blood boil beneath his skin. 

"Did I? I probably didn't mean it," Yoshimi said with a deep belly laugh, "I was just tryna get laid!"

It was times like these when Atsumu could imagine leaving. Yoshimi wasn't his husband in the eyes of the law. They were nineteen when they decided to buy bullshit rings and call it a day, promising to stay with each other forever. It was when they were twenty that Atsumu realised even if they didn't need to divorce, he couldn't leave. He worked a shitty job in a shitty part of town with a high school diploma and no connections. His family lived in Hyogo, so it's not like he could jus--

"Atsumu!" His train of thought was halted when Yoshimi snapped his fingers in front of his face, "Yer not listening to me. How much did ya make today?"

Atsumu hesitated, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a stack of bills, and handed them to Yoshimi. He flicked through the yen and looked up at Atsumu, "Not bad. Not great either. Ya'know I don't like ya workin' here."

"What?" Atsumu asked with a frown, "What do ya mean?"

"I could have ya back at the house, makin' me pies for when I come home. And I don't like those guys that ya hang out with, either."

Yoshimi glanced behind Atsumu, and he turned to look at Bokuto, who was cleaning the same table he had been when Yoshimi walked in. He was very clearly listening in, and glared at Yoshimi.

"That one looks at me like I killed his dog."

Bokuto was indeed glaring at Yoshimi with such an intense heat that Atsumu had to look away, "But I like workin' here."

Yoshimi's brown eyes turn back to Atsumu, "Well ya don't seem to do shit here that ya couldn't at home. Yer never around, and ya never pay attention to me anymore."

"Right," Atsumu said with frown, "Well, I'll work on that." 

Atsumu wasn't very passionate about the promise he had just made, but his husband seemed satisfied as he finished his pie. "I'll be on my way," He said, standing up from his chair, "See ya at home."

As Yoshimi walked past Atsumu, he gave him a sharp smack on the ass and Atsumu winced, "Bye."

Bokuto stood next to Atsumu, and the two of them watched Yoshimi pull his jacket on and walk out the door.

"You know," Kageyama piped up from behind the counter where he was putting cash into the till, "I'm probably going to flunk out of university, and Bokuto can't keep a relationship for more than a month, but neither of us would switch places with you."

Bokuto nodded his head, "Yeah, your life is kind of a mess."

Atsumu slapped his hand against Bokuto in a slightly-harder-than-friendly way and scoffed, "We all have stuff goin' on. It's not so bad." His shoulder ached in protest.

"You're holding onto vows and promises you made when you were too young to know who that man really was," Bokuto says softly, rubbing the place on his arm where Atsumu had smacked.

"Yoshimi wasn't always like that," Atsumu said, "He's just goin' through a rough patch, 's'all."

Hinata exited out of the kitchen as Kageyama said, "That's a bullshit excuse. Leave his ass."

Atsumu glared at him, "What happened to the goody-two-shoes little university kid who came in here lookin' for a job?"

Kageyama ignored him in favour of pushing Hinata as he walked past.

"He has a point, y'know," Bokuto said, "Why are you still with him? You aren't even properly married."

Atsumu sighed and rubbed his shoulder gently. "I can't afford it. Yoshimi takes all my tips and the yen that I've saved isn't enough."

Hinata gasped from where he was pinching Kageyama's side, "Move in with me! It's a studio, but I don't mind sharing! We can spoon!"

Atsumu laughed and rubbed his hand through Hinata's hair, "I don't know, Shou-kun. I think it'll be a bit of a squeeze."

"Leave his ass," Kageyama repeated, and Atsumu rolled his eyes.

"I can't hear ya, Tobio-kun," He said, walking towards the kitchen, "I've got fifteen pies to make before the lunch rush."

Bokuto followed him in, taking a bandage wrap out of his pocket. "Here," He said, gently wrapping Atsumu's right arm into the sling, "Until you can see a doctor. And I'll help you with the pies."

Atsumu patted Bokuto's gravity defying hair, "Don't worry about it, Bokkun. I prefer to work when it's quiet."

Bokuto nodded and left Atsumu alone with only minimal hesitation.

The mantra of 'sugar, butter, flour' snook its way back into Atsumu's head, as he took out the ingredients for a Peachy Keen Pie.

When Atsumu had gotten the job at the Jackals diner he had started to pour his emotions into his pies. He liked to think that if he thought about his problems as he weaved strips of pastry on top of the pie to create intricate patterns, the people who ate the slices were sharing his burden. His past self would laugh at how sappy he'd become. Eighteen-Year-Old-Atsumu would probably be right there with Yoshimi, humiliating Twenty-Three-Year-Old-Atsumu at work, and telling him that he hated his friends.

Atsumu figured this was why he had gotten along so well with Yoshimi when he was younger. They were both major assholes, and when they had no more fan girls to call pigs, or teammates to criticize and make miserable, they had to do it to each other. Yoshimi just happened to be stronger than Atsumu.

It took a while to finish making five of three different pies with the pain of a dislocated shoulder (he would be lying if he said he didn't take a few painkillers halfway through the third pie), but when Atsumu was done he decided to make one more. His doctor, Sato, thoroughly enjoyed his Mermaid Marshmallow Pie. Everytime he saw her on the street, or for a checkup she asked for a Mermaid Marshmallow to be brought to his next visit.

It wasn't a difficult pie to make, and Atsumu let out a sigh of relief when it was cooled and ready to go. His shift was about to end, and he could finally get his shoulder in check.

\---

Atsumu felt out of place in the waiting room at the doctors office. Nurse Komori Motoya was behind the front desk and was looking at his computer. He laughed to himself every once in a while, but the sounds were drowned out by the noise of the people waiting. Everyone in there was either pregnant or looked on the verge of death. Atsumu imagined he looked similar.

He had texted Yoshimi a half hour before his shift ended, and told him he had dislocated his shoulder and needed to go to see a doctor. Of course Yoshimi already knew his shoulder had been hurt, he was there when it happened, and expressed his guilt over it through text. Atsumu felt disappointed in himself at the flare of warmth that spread through his chest at the thought of his husband feeling bad about what had happened. 

"Ugh, why are ya creamin' yer pants over him feeling remorse? The bar is on the floor," He muttered to himself, and jumped when Komori called out a sharp, "Miya Atsumu!"

Atsumu got to his feet with a forced half smirk on his face, "Yes, Motoya-kun?"

"You're in room two," Komori looked longingly at the pie in Atsumu's hands as he walked past, and Atsumu made a note to ask Sato-Sensei to spare a slice for him.

Atsumu opened the door to room two and glanced around. Sato hadn't come in yet, so Atsumu took a seat in front of the desk in the corner, and tried to avoid looking at the pictures of what gross medical issues smoking caused.

"Miya-san," A somewhat muffled voice behind him said, as the door to room two opened.

Atsumu felt his breath hitch as he turned around and caught sight of the man that had just entered the room. His pristine white doctors coat was pressed, and almost blindingly clean. He wore a surgical face mask over his mouth and nose, which brought attention the his dark eyes and the pair of moles that sat above his right eyebrow. He looked sexy, but effortlessly so, like he wasn't eveb trying. Atsumu liked to think he looked the same way. He straightened up and smiled in the lazy way that got all the girls in high school to fawn over him, and he ran a hand through his bleached blonde hair.

"I think ya have the wrong room, Doctor," He lowered his voice, and wiggled an eyebrow.

The Doctor didn't look very impressed, and instead of blushing and turning away, he looked down at his clipboard. "You are Miya Atsumu, aren't you?"

Atsumu dropped his smile a little, "Uhh yeah," He held up the pie that was resting on his lap, "But I'm here to see Sato-Sensei."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes a little at the pie, "She retired a few months ago. If you wish to see another Doctor, that's fine, but I'm available at the moment."

Atsumu wiggled his eyebrow again, "Yer available, huh?"

The Doctor glanced at him with a look that Atsumu can only describe as losing his will to live, "I have a wife... but yes I'm the only available doctor. Feel free to wait another three hours for someone else to have an open slot in their schedule."

Atsumu nodded in understanding, "Ahhh so yer a hetero."

The Doctor mumbled something under his breath, and brought his eyes back up to Atsumu with a look of hatred, "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm bisexual. Now, would you like another doctor?"

"Oh, twinsies," Atsumu raised his good arm for a high five, but The Doctor looked at it in disgust, "Nah, I'll be fine with you..."

"Sakusa Kiyoomi," The Doctor -Sakusa, as he should be calling him now- supplied with his eyebrows furrowed in what looked like discomfort. Astumu never realised how hard it was to read someone's expressions just from their eyes before now.

"I guess this pie belongs to you, now, Sakusa-Sensei!" He said, as Sakusa took a seat opposite him, and Atsumu slid the Mermaid Marshmallow across the desk.

Sakusa stared at it for a second, "No, thanks." 

Atsumu scoffed in offense, "Ya haven't even tried it yet, Kiyoomi!"

Sakusa's narrowed eyes turned to Atsumu, "We just met, don't call me by my given name."

Atsumu shrugged his left shoulder, "Sorry, Omi, but you've offended me. I don't use formalities with such disrespectful people." 

"Omi?" Sakusa's annoyance was audible in his voice, and Atsumu was afraid he might've pushed too far when the door was pushed open. Atsumu turned to see Komori come in with a checkboard and a friendly smile.

"Kiyoomi?" He said with a smile.

Atsumu opened his mouth wide, "How come he gets ta call ya Kiyoomi?"

"Because he's my cousin, Miya," Sakusa said with an eye roll, as if Atsumu was supposed to know that, "What do you want Motoya?"

"Sorry for interrupting, I was just wondering if you were gonna eat that pie," Komori said, glancing at the desk, "Is that Mermaid Marshmallow?"

Atsumu smiled wide, "It sure is, Motoya-kun," He shot a look at Sakusa, "You can have it, since it doesn't meet yer cousins high standards for a pie. Isn't that right, Omi-kun?"

Komori gave a short laugh and mouthed 'Omi-kun', before shaking his head, "You really should try it, Kiyoomi. It's heavenly."

Sakusa shook his head, "You know I'm off sugar," He said, eying the pie once again, "It increases leptin resistance, chromium deficiency, a decrease--"

Atsumu cut him off with a small laugh, "My brother used to say that you could live ta be a hundred if ya gave up all the things that makes ya wanna live ta be a hundred. Like sugar."

Sakusa looked at him for a a few beats, unblinking, and Atsumu began to fidget with his fingers a little.

"Well," Komori said, and snapped Sakusa out of his daze, "I'll be taking this," He grabbed the pie and walked back to the door, "Don't be a stranger, Miya." 

The room went silent after he left, and Sakusa cleared his throat and looked down at his clipboard, "You think your shoulder is dislocated?"

Atsumu nodded his head, "Yeah, it happened last night. The pain wasn't too bad until this morning, though."

Sakusa took a note with a small squint, "Alright, let's have a look." 

Atsumu followed him to the examination table on the far side of the room, and took his uniform shirt off. The confidence of earlier had vanished, when Atsumu caught sight if the bruising on his right arm. It was not a pretty sight.

Sakusa snapped on a pair of latex gloves and began to prod at Atsumu's shoulder. He asked Atsumu to rotate it a few times, and took notes on his clipboard when Atsumu winced in pain, or told him he couldn't move it a certain way.

"How did it happen?" He asked, after Atsumu rolled his shoulder backwards, at Sakusa's request.

Atsumu's breath caught in his throat, "I took a tumble down the stairs," He said with a too-loud-laugh, "I've always been a bit clumsy."

Sakusa looked at him through the corner of his eye, and hummed, "Sure," He said, "I'll push it back into place and it should be fine. You ready?"

Atsumu nodded, and clenched his left hand into a fist. Sakusa gripped his bicep and Atsumu closed his eyes for five counts. When he opened them again, Sakusa had let his hand fall, and the crack of his bones fitting back together still rang in his ears. He sighed in relief as the pain subsided.

"Wasn't too bad," Atsumu said, and blinked the tears from his eyes, "Anything I need ta know before I go, Omi-Sensei?"

Sakusa gave an exasperated sigh, "We aren't finished yet," He said, "You'll need to have an x-ray done. Do you feel any pain?"

Atsumu shook his head, "Yeah, but most of the pain sorta dulled down."

Sakusa nodded, "That's good. You probably won't need surgery. We can't be positive until you get the x-ray, though."

The x-ray didn't take long, and soon Atsumu was looking at the inside of his own shoulder on a screen in front of him. Sakusa hummed to himself and jotted down a few notes.

"Good news," He said, "You won't need surgery. I managed to put it back in the right place, so it should heal on its own. I would recommend taking over the counter painkillers if the pain is really bugging you, but other than that you should be good to go."

Atsumu nodded his head, "What about sports? I play volleyball in my free time, and I wouldn't want to sit on the bench for long."

Sakusa looked down at his notes, and then looked back up at Atsumu. It made him feel like he was being x-rayed a second time, "Someone as clumsy as you playing volleyball? You'd probably be on the bench without the dislocated shoulder."

Atsumu glared at the man in front of him, "I could've gone pro," He spat, "I don't know where ya got this clumsiness notion from!"

Sakusa simply raised an eyebrow, and put on Atsumu's Kansai accent, "'I've always been a bit clumsy'," He quoted.

Atsumu felt himself pale, "I meant when I drink. I get clumsy when I drink."

Sakusa hummed, "You should keep your arm in a sling for a week or so. No volleyball or strenuous activities for three at the least. That includes sex, by the way."

Atsumu shrugged his left shoulder, "Not a problem."

Sakusa gave him a look, and Atsumu saw his throat bob as he swallowed, "You're married, though."

"I- How d'you know that?" He accused, with a furrow of his eyebrows.

Sakusa's eyes drifted to the ring on his left hand, and Atsumu looked away, "Oh, right."

"I'll see you next month for a checkup, to see if there isn't anymore swelling, and make sure that everything went smoothly," Sakusa said and took off his gloves. He wrote something on a card -the date for his next appointment- and handed it to Atsumu.

"Thanks, Omi," Atsumu said and saluted to him as he walked out the door.

The waiting room was just as full, if not more so, when he walked out of room two, and past Komori's desk. A quarter of the pie had already vanished and Komori waved with a friendly smile, "Thanks for the pie, Miya!"

"Yer welcome, Motoya-kun!" His good mood dwindled when he stepped outside onto the pavement, when he remembered he was going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I am aware that Sakusa couldn't be a doctor at the age of 22, but let us all close our eyes and suspend our disbelief together)
> 
> Oop how did I do? Kudos/comments appreciated :)


	2. It Only Takes A Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating, so be wary of that (not because anything ~mature~ happens in this chapter, but because I feel like the teen and up rating doesn't really fit)
> 
> I don't think this chapter needs any trigger warnings, but if i need to add one feel free to let me know :)

Atsumu met Yoshimi when he was eighteen years old, and about four months away from his high school graduation. He had been walking home past a playground by himself when he heard the first notes of an acoustic guitar.

He was curious, because he hadn't heard the song before, but it was good. He listened from afar, and shot a glance to the older boy playing every now and then. The boy was sitting under a tree, and the group of people surrounding him were singing along to the song. Atsumu had taken a seat on a nearby bench, and scrolled through his camera roll to make it seem like he wasn't watching this guy like some sort of creeper, but the guy got up anyway.

Atsumu realised he was being approached when the guitar stopped and the group made sounds of protests. He looked up and saw the guitar player standing over his bench with a half smile. The first thing that Atsumu noticed was that he was pretty. His brown hair looked soft, and fell in loose waves past his ears, and his brown eyes were squinted in a smile.

"Hey," Atsumu said, locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket.

"Yer a third year at Inarizaki right?" The guy asked and took a seat next to Atsumu on the bench.

Atsumu nodded, "Yeah, do you go there, too?"

"I did," The guy replied, "When you were a first year I was a third year."

"Oh, right," Atsumu cleared his throat as an awkward silence settled between them, "Didja know of me, or was that just a guess?"

The guy laughed, "Yer pretty well known, Miya Atsumu, best setter in the high school volleyball world."

"Funny," Atsumu said with a smirk, "Did you play volleyball, too, or are ya just some sorta superfan?"

"Nah, I was never really into volleyball. I was in the wrestling club, though," The guy said, and spread his arm over the back of the bench, almost touching Atsumu's shoulder.

"Cool. Yer a musician now?" Atsumu asked, and nodded his head towards his guitar.

The guy straightened up with pride, "Sure am. I plan on moving to Tokyo soon. I've gained a bit of a following, and I think it's the right time to make a career outta this."

"I might have to look you up," Atsumu said with a lazy smile, "Can I have yer name?"

"Maruyama Yoshimi," Maruyama replied, "Surpirsed ya haven't heard of me before now. I was sorta a big deal when I was in school." 

"Yeah?" Atsumu said, "Why'd ya come over here?"

Maruyama looked over at the group of people still waiting underneath the tree, and then turned to look at Atsumu with a sly smile. "Seen ya walkin' past here a few times," He replied, "Usually with yer twin. I wanted to know what made ya stop here today."

"Osamu's busy today," He had gone the opposite way, to Suna Rintarou's house, when they walked out of the school gates. "And I heard ya playin'. Yer good."

"Just good?" Maruyama shifted closer to Atsumu with a smug smile, "I've been told I'm brilliant. Of course, not 'best setter at a high school level' brilliant."

Atsumu's lips gave the smallest twitch upwards, "That's pretty hard to beat, but yer okay, I guess."

Maruyama breathed out a small laugh, "We can't all be prodigies."

Atsumu turned to look at the guy next to him. The easy breezy smile he had been dawning just seconds earlier had hardened, and his eyes were narrowed slightly. "'M not a prodigy," Atsumu said, moving his eyes over Maruyama's face, trying to see if the kind smile would return, "I worked hard to get to the level I'm at, and it paid off. I'm sure ya understand, considerin' the way ya play that guitar."

Maruyama seemed to like that answer, and his face softened again, "Yer cute, Miya Atsumu," He said, "Ya got a phone number?"

Atsumu froze for a second, before thinking 'fuck it' and pulling out his phone, "I'm not gay, though."

Maruyama hummed, "But I am," He smiled at Atsumu again. "It's funny watching the girls who confess to me figure it out, and it gets them to leave me alone," Maruyama's eyes flicked over to the tree where he had been sitting.

Atsumu glanced back over at the crowd sitting under the tree. Now that it had been pointed out, Atsumu noticed that there were mostly girls looking at Maruyama with love sick expressions and hopeful eyes. "Is that why yer sitting so close?" Atsumu asked, "So they'll figure out that yer gay?"

Maruyama shrugged a shoulder, "I'm sitting so close 'cause yer hot," He said, "But that's just an added bonus."

Atsumu cleared his throat at the compliment, "I guess yer... pretty, too."

"Pretty?" Maruyama said with a lift of his eyebrows, "Girls are pretty. I'm not a girl."

"Ya want me to call ya handsome, or some shit?" Atsumu said with a scowl, "Cause I'm not doin' that."

"Ya don't have ta call me anything," Maruyama's voice dropped down an octave, and he leaned in closer, "But I want ya to kiss me."

Atsumu leaned back slightly, "Why?"

Maruyama's eyes flickered down to Atsumu's lips, "'Cause I don't think the girls over there have gotten the picture yet."

Atsumu glanced at the girls under the tree and noticed them staring in the same way they had been before. As someone who had had to put up with annoying fangirls, Atsumu felt the need to help another guy out. That was the only reason he closed his eyes and met Maruyama's lips with his own. And if anyone said anything different, Atsumu would deny it.

After a few seconds, Maruyama pulled away from the chaste kiss and handed Atsumu his phone back, "Call me sometime, Miya-kun."

Maruyama got off the bench and went back to sitting in the middle of the visibly more dejected crowd. Atsumu felt heat rise in his cheeks as he looked down at Maruyama's phone number saved as 'Yoshimi <3'.

\---

Atsumu shrugged his jacket off as he walked into the diner the day after his his shoulder had been put back in its place, mindful of the sling cradling his right arm. Unlike most days, he wasn't the first one in. Bokuto and Hinata were excitedly talking over the ketchup bottles they were filling, and Atsumu smiled as they waved him over.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto grabbed a bottle of ketchup and walked around the counter to put it on the nearest table, "You're usually in earlier than this, Tsum-Tsum, what's up?"

Atsumu tied his apron around his waist and sighed, "Bus driver was half asleep."

"Why won't that husband of yours get you a car?" Another waiter, Adriah Tomas, asked, as he flipped the chairs down from the tables and wiped them down with antibacterial spray.

"Cause he doesn't want me goin' nowhere," Atsumu answered with a lighthearted chuckle. 

Hinata finished filling up a bottle of mustard and gasped when the door jingled open, "And you, Kageyama!" He said, "Late again? As the chef, I have the authority to fire you!"

Kageyama put his bag down on a bar stool and stared at Hinata over the counter, "Okay. Then fire me."

"Okay," Hinata replied, going up onto his toes, probably to make himself look taller. "I will!"

"Then do it!" Kageyama replied, and the two stared at each other for a minute in silence. Atsumu never totally understood their relationship, but from what he had gathered, the two had been rivals since high school. Before working at the Jackals, Kageyama had worked at the diner that had closed a few streets down, The Schweiden Adlers, and came in here asking Hinata for a job. The two of them constantly bickered, but Atsumu was convinced that was their way of bonding.

"So, Atsumu," Hinata finally turned his gaze away from Kageyama, "How was the doctor?"

Atsumu followed Hinata into the kitchen to start baking the pies for the morning rush, "Fine," He said, taking a mixing bowl from one of the cupboards, "I got a new doctor. A man."

"Is he single?" Hinata asked, getting blueberry pancake batter ready to pour onto a pan, "Maybe he'd be good for Bokuto."

Bokuto's head popped in through the window, "For me!?"

"Nah, he has a wife," He said with a shrug, "He's an okay guy, kinda grumpy."

Hinata nodded his head, and his face lit up, "Oh! Wait," He said with a large grin, "Bokuto, get in here."

Bokuto's head left the window, and seconds later he came bounding through the door with a happy smile on his face, "We got you something to cheer you up."

Atsumu eyed Bokuto's hands that were hidden behind his back, "What is it?"

Bokuto held out a thin, rectangular package, wrapped in blue paper. "This looks like a book. Ya know I don't read."

Hinata and Bokuto exchanged a glance, "Just open it," Hinata said, pushing the package closer to Atsumu's face.

"Fine, but if it's a book I'm throwin' it in the trash," He tore off the wrapping paper and sighed. "Surprise, surprise, it's a book," He flipped through the pages and frowned, "A blank book."

Hinata nudged him, "It's for writing letters. I know you don't have Osamu's phone number or anything, but we figured you could write him letters. There's a bunch of stamps you can use at the back, and it comes with its own envelopes and everything. You know your family's address, right?"

Atsumu swallowed slowly, "Yeah, I do."

"And you never thought to write to him before now?" Bokuto asked with a quirk of a silver eyebrow.

Atsumu elbowed him, "Sorry that I don't live in the fifteenth century," He said with a frown, "Next you'll be askin' why I didn't contact him via smoke signals."

"Can I interest the book club in a cup of coffee and a slice of pie?" Kageyama asked through the window.

Atsumu flipped his middle finger at Kageyama, but took the interruption as his cue to finish up baking the pies. He ended up cutting it rather close, with only five minutes to opening up when he finished.

He placed the Pie of the Day on a cake stand in the display and wrote on the chalkboard as usual. He flipped the sign to 'open', and greeted the customers with the usual "hello", or "how ya been?".

It wasn't until the morning rush had moved on, and Meian Shuugo took his seat in his booth that anything interesting happened.

"G'mornin', Meian-san," Atsumu greeted with a broad grin and a stiff shoulder, "What can I getcha today?"

Meian placed his folded up newspaper on the table in front of him, "I'll have your pie for today, Miya," he said, "And I'd like a tomato on the side, on it's own plate."

Atsumu jotted it down, "Is that everything?"

Meian shook his head, "I want orange juice --but don't bring that first!" He said gesturing with his hand in the air, "Bring me a glass of water first, and bring the OJ with the meal."

Atsumu turned to get Meian's food from the kitchen when Meian held up his hands, "Don't you want me to read your horoscope?" He asked, unfolding the news paper.

"Oh, no thanks, Meian-san," Atsumu said, "I don't believe in those things much."

Meian hummed, "Well, what about this," He gestured to an advert at the bottom of the page, "National pie bake off," He read off, as he ripped the advert out of the paper and handed it to Atsumu, "It's Osaka, you could probably get a train there. You should enter!"

Atsumu furrowed his brow, "I dunno, Meian-san. My pies are good, but they're not that good."

"Prize is two million yen!" Meian said, "Good grief, maybe I should enter!"

Nothing much changed after hearing that, but Atsumu seemed to drift mindlessly through the rest of his shift. He couldn't help but think that if he won the pie baking contest he wouldn't need that stupid book that Hinata and Bokuto bought him. He could return home and get himself a house away from Yoshimi. He tried not to get his hopes up, though, because this was a national contest, and there were much better bakers than him.

"What's up with you?" Kageyama asked as they sat behind the diner on their break. Hinata and Bokuto were there, too, trying to catch peanuts in their mouths.

"Thinkin' about entering a pie contest," He said with a shrug, "But I don't know..."

"You totally should, Tsum-Tsum," Bokuto said, with a mouthful of peanuts, "Your pies are delicious."

"Whatever," Atsumu said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Let's talk about you."

Bokuto pointed to his chest, "Me?"

Atsumu nodded, "Didja finish writin' yer dating profile?"

This was a topic that seemed to engage everyone, and so Kageyama and Hinata turned their attention to Bokuto, who was rubbing the tips of his index fingers together, "Yeah, but it probably isn't any good."

"Bullshit!" Atsumu said, slapping his hand down on his friends shoulder, "Let's hear whatcha got!"

Bokuto nodded before taking a sheet of paper out of his pocket. He cleared his throat, "I am a man of many passions... I have an enthusiastic love for rare owl species... just a wing spiker looking for the ideal setter... winky face."

Atsumu blinked twice before nodding, "That was good! Straight to the point, I like it."

"Are you sure?" Bokuto said with a frown, "I feel like it's not interesting enough."

Atsumu opened up his bento and picked up the onigiri he'd packed for himself, "Who cares if it's interestin'?" He said, and a few pieces of rice flew out of his mouth as he chewed, "Yer hot enough ta get away with it. Look at those thighs!" Atsumu pointed at Bokuto's legs with his half eaten rice ball.

"I know that, but I want a relationship with someone!" Bokuto said with a pout, "I don't want my significant other to only be in it for my thighs!"

"They'd be in it for yer abs, too," Atsumu said, as he devoured another onigiri.

"I just don't wanna end up miserable, like you," Bokuto twiddled his thumbs, "No offence."

Atsumu shrugged, "None taken, cause it's true."

"Maybe we should just date each other," Bokuto said as he shoved a handful of peanuts into his mouth, "We'd be perfect together! We're both volleyball players! You're a setter, and I'm a wing spiker. You're hot, and I'm gorgeous! I can already hear the wedding bells!"

Atsumu laughed, "Sorry, Bokkun, but I happen to be married already. Anyway, if ya post that profile tonight, I guarantee you that men, women and everythin' in between will be linin' up outside yer door, ready ta take ya out."

Bokuto seemed to think this through for a few seconds, "You really think so?" 

"Fuck yeah, bro!" Atsumu said, taking a swig from his water bottle, "Yer a catch!"

"Thanks, Tsum-Tsum!" And with that, Bokuto was back to his lively self, throwing peanuts at Hinata and watching them bounce off his nose.

Later on that evening, as Atsumu made his way home, he slipped his hand into his uniform pocket and felt the advert for the pie baking contest.

He thought about the pies he would consider entering into the competition on his walk to the bus stop, and what kind of house he would buy with the prize money.

He sat in a daydream on the bench while he waited, and only snapped out of it when he heard someone call his name.

"Miya!" Atsumu looked up to see Sakusa standing next to the bench, missing his doctors jacket, but still wearing the surgical mask.

"Omi-kun!" Atsumu said, his surprise melted into a warm buzz beneath his skin, "What're ya doin' here?"

"My car broke down this morning, so I had to take the bus. It's disgusting. I would've walked if I didn't live so far away. You always take the bus?" He asked with a visible shiver of discomfort.

"Every Tuesday night," Atsumu replied, "My husband goes out drinkin' with his friends. Ya gonna sit down?"

Sakusa eyed the empty space on the bench next to Atsumu, "No, thanks."

Atsumu tried not to be offended, "Right, okay." 

"Not because of you," Sakusa snapped and slowly sat down on the bench with a cringe, "I don't like touching things that might be... unclean."

Atsumu raised an eyebrow, "And ya become a doctor? Where ya have ta touch sick people every day?"

"Well, as a doctor I get to make sure they get better. It's sort of like disinfecting a bathroom," Sakusa explained, his shoulders were hunched, like he was making sure to touch the bench as little as possible. "It starts off dirty, but when you're finished it's clean. And I feel safe knowing that it's clean, because I'm the one who cleaned it."

Atsumu nodded his head, even though he didn't really understand, "Well, I'm a waiter, so..."

Sakusa hummed and looked at Atsumu's uniform, "Where do you work?"

Atsumu pointed down the street, "Just around that corner. The Black Jackals Diner," He said with a soft sigh, "Twenty seven different types of pie."

"Must be a virtual pie factory," Sakusa said as he adjusted his mask over his nose.

"I actually bake them all fresh every mornin'," Atsumu explained, "Different pies for breakfast and lunch. And then an additional special new pie every day."

Sakusa looked at him with genuine surprise, "So, you actually made that marshmallow pie?"

"Yes," Atsumu said and glared at Sakusa, "My brother and I invented it when we were nine years old, that so hard to believe?"

"It's just that that was probably the best pie I've ever tasted," Sakusa said, finally relaxing on the bench. "I didn't expect something like that coming from someone like you."

Atsumu scoffed quietly, "Whatever. I thought you were off sugar, Omi-omi," He said with a lazy smirk, "Don't worry, I won't tell yer doctor."

Sakusa stared at Atsumu for a second with the familiar annoyance in his eyes, before he gathered himself and said, "That pie was really good. Seriously, it could win ribbons and trophies."

Atsumu felt the newspaper advert in his pocket, "Really?"

Sakusa fell silent, before taking a breath behind his mask and averting his gaze, "It's kind of funny."

Atsumu raised an eyebrow, "What is?"

"You remind me of a girl I used to know," He said with a soft voice, "She's probably well in middle age by now."

"Um," Atsumu said, "Thanks?"

The soft look in Sakusa's eyes narrowed a little, "What I meant was she was a waitress at a shop that I used to go to when I was a kid. She had nice teeth and bleached hair. She used to sneak me sugary things I was never allowed to have at home. She reminds me of you."

Atsumu felt his cheeks flush and he coughed a little, "Yeah, but no one ever thinks of me like that," He said with a laugh. He couldn't remember one time anyone had ever thought of him in such a wholesome way.

"Somebody did, right?" Atsumu raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Because you have --you're married."

"Oh, right," Atsumu rubbed his nose a little in embarrassment, "I guess so."

Sakusa ignored him and continued to reminisce about the waitress, "She baked the pies fresh every day, too. You really do remind me of her, but better. In terms of pie making, I mean."

"Jeez, Omi, keep it in yer pants," Atsumu said with an awkward laugh. He was used to getting this kind of praise from customers, but it felt more genuine coming from the man who had been so cold to him just the day before.

Sakusa rolled his dark eyes and glared, "What I'm trying to say is that it only takes a taste to know when something's good," He started, "Sometimes... one bite is enough to know you want more." There was a beat of silence before he added; "Motoya force fed me your stupid mermaid pie, and I ended up eating what was left of it."

Atsumu glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Sakusa was looking down at his lap awkwardly. "Um," Atsumu said, trying to fill the silence, "That reminds me of something my brother used to say when we baked together. 'You can tell the whole story with a taste'."

Sakusa met his eye again, "I get exactly what he means," He said, and Atsumu could almost hear his smile, "I swear as the flavours mixed together, I could hear the sirens singing. One taste and I wanted the whole thing."

"Really?" Atsumu asked as he put his hand over the newspaper advert in his pocket.

The movement caught Sakusa's eye and he said, "I can't help but wonder how your hands must have felt," He averted his gaze, "Creating something like that pie."

They locked eyes again, and this time Atsumu felt his breath hitch. He looked away as he heard the bus turn around the corner and pull to a stop, "This is me."

Sakusa nodded, "Call me, anytime," He cleared his throat, "If you have any... questions and concerns about your shoulder."

"Alright," Atsumu said with a wave, "It was nice talkin' to ya, Omi-Sensei."

Atsumu replayed the conversation over in his head as he sat on the bus, and hoped he wasn't blushing when he remembered Sakusa's dark curls and the moles above his eyebrow.

\---

When Atsumu got home that evening, Yoshimi was already sitting on the couch, watching the TV and drinking a beer.

"It's Tuesday night," He said after he took his shoes off and entered the living room, "What're ya doing home so early?"

"I'll be home a lot more often," Yoshimi replied, "Apparently I was late one too many times. I got fired."

Atsumu took a seat next to his husband, "Ah, shit," He said, "I'm sorry."

Yoshimi shot him a look, "Don't feel sorry for me. I'm celebratin'. I hated that job anyway."

Not knowing how to reply, Atsumu turned his attention to the bee documentary that was playing on the TV.

"Looks like yer payin' the bills around here, from now on," Yoshimi said, "How much did we make today?"

Atsumu sighed softly and took his tips out of his uniform pocket and handed it to Yoshimi. 

"Yer shittin' me, Atsumu," He said with a scowl, "Is this it?"

"It was a slow day," Atsumu fired back, "What d'ya expect me to do? Rob the till?"

"If it's a slow day, ya work faster!" Atsumu turned to look back at the TV, and was very aware of his shoulder in a sling. It felt heavier than it had minutes ago.

"Whatever. I'm tired, let's just watch this."

Yoshimi snorted, "Yer always tired. Ya never pay attention to me like ya used to."

Atsumu stayed silent and continued to watch the bees pollinate flowers on the screen in front of him.

"Remember when I would play ya a song, and you'd drop everything to listen," Yoshimi reached over the side of the couch and picked up his acoustic guitar. He began to strum a random tune, and Atsumu realised just how much he hated the sound. "We wouldn't be in this shit hole if you hadn't quit volleyball."

Atsumu clenched his hand where it sat between his thigh and the armrest of the couch. He used to fight back. He would have said something like, 'We wouldn't be in this shit hole if you had any talent,". He would have thrown a punch after the inevitable blow hit his skin after saying something like that. But Yoshimi's time in the Inarizaki wrestling club made him stronger than Atsumu, and he learned to let comments like that go over his head.

Instead of saying anything, Atsumu hummed in agreement, because he knew that if he didn't react at all it would be worse.

Yoshimi continued to strum his guitar, and Atsumu had a feeling he was only doing it so Atsumu missed what was being said on the documentary (not that he was really watching it). 

As they got ready for bed, Yoshimi said one last "I expect better tips tomorrow," before switching off the bedroom light. Atsumu couldn't help but think of Sakusa, who had eaten his Mermaid Marshmallow Pie, even though he was supposed to be off sugar, and had fixed the shoulder that his husband had dislocated.

\---

Over the next two weeks, Atsumu decided to keep half his tips hidden in the couch cushions and signed up for the National Pie Bake Off.

\---

Atsumu was in the kitchen after hours preparing some dough for the next days breakfast pies, when Hinata cleared his throat. Atsumu looked up from where he was wrapping the pastry in plastic and spotted Hinata looking through the spice rack.

"What's this doing behind the cinnamon?" He asked, with an oddly stern look as he picked up the book he and Bokuto had gifted him.

"Ohhhh," Atsumu said, "How'd that get there? I was lookin' for that!" 

Atsumu went to take the book from Hinata, but Hinata clicked his tongue, "Why haven't you written anything in it?"

Atsumu let out a breath of frustration, "What am I supposed to say ta him? Sorry for leavin' ya by yerself and ruinin' my future, I thought my boyfriend was a musical prodigy? Sorry for never comin' back, my husband doesn't let me go anywhere by myself unless it's to work, where I make minimum wage at some shitty diner as a waiter. We all thought I was goin' to the Olympics, huh?"

Atsumu's laughter was cold, and he felt the pain build in his chest. As much as he fought with his brother when they were younger, he never wanted to cut him out of his life. It hadn't been intentional, either. After figuring out that Yoshimi wasn't going to become some big name music star, and after their huge egos caused them to butt heads -both physically, and verbally- Atsumu realised that he couldn't face Osamu. Osamu had told Atsumu not to leave with Yoshimi, but he had just quit volleyball, and Atsumu was pissed. He had sworn to Osamu that he would be the one with a happier life, and the thought of running home with his tail between his legs was humiliating.

"Just write something down, 'Tsumu," Hinata handed the book back to Atsumu, "If you don't wanna send it, no one will force you to."

Atsumu looked down at the book with a frown, "I dunno, Shouyou. Isn't that like keepin' a diary?"

Hinata shrugged a shoulder and grabbed some black pepper from the spice rack, "Kageyama keeps a diary."

Kageyama yelled through the kitchen door in annoyance, "It's a journal!" and Hinata cackled quietly.

"I'll give it a try, Shou-kun," Atsumu said and he put the wrapped up dough into the fridge. "I'm not makin' any promises, though."

Their conversation was quickly shut down as Bokuto ran into the kitchen and crouched against the wall next to the pantry.

"You okay, Bokuto?" Hinata asked and shared a concerned glance with Atsumu.

Bokuto shook his head, "I have a date."

"A date?!" Atsumu dropped what he was doing to crouch down next to Bokuto, "With who?"

Bokuto took his phone out of his uniform pocket, "His name's Akaashi," He said as his thumbs flew across the screen of his phone. "Twenty three, has all his hair, kind smile," Bokuto pulled up a picture of a man so stunning Atsumu felt his heart skip a beat. His hair was dark and wavy, and in the picture it fell over a pair of glasses. He was laughing at whatever was being said off camera, and he looked almost ethereal. "He likes poetry, English literature and works as an editor for a big time publisher."

Atsumu gaped at the picture, "And he wants to go out with you?"

Bokuto elbowed him, "Yes! We've been texting back and forth for two weeks."

"Colour me impressed, Bokkun, this man looks like he was made by Aphrodite herself," Atsumu said and stared at the photo some more.

"That's what I'm worried about!" Bokuto whined, and he slouched against the wall, "Akaashi is so perfect, and I'm a waiter who can barely cover rent!"

Atsumu slapped his hand over Bokuto's two toned hair, "Hey! Yer perfect, too! You've got great hair, a great body and I don't know one person who doesn't love you," Bokuto had started to visibly perk up with every word that came out of Atsumu's mouth, "When's yer date?"

"Tonight," He said, and let Astumu drag him to his feet.

"What are you guys planning on doing?" Hinata asked from the stove.

Bokuto went into the dating profile that Atsumu had set up for him weeks ago, and scrolled through the messages he had shared with Akaashi, "We're going to see that new sci-fi thriller, and then we're getting ramen. Akaashi said he knows a place."

"What time are ya leaving?" Atsumu asked and checked his phone for the time. The diner had been closed for about an hour, and it was nearing seven.

"The movie starts in half an hour, so I should probably be leaving," Bokuto replied and smiled down at the picture of Akaashi.

"I'm done here, anyway," Atsumu said as he brushed flour off his apron, "I'll head out with you."

As he cleaned up the kitchen, he felt his shoulder stiffen and he grunted. 

"Everything okay, 'Tsumu?" Hinata asked as he turned up the heat on the stove, and he eyed Atsumu's shoulder in concern.

"Yeah, just got a little stiff," He explained, "What're ya cooking there, Shou-kun?"

Hinata smiled a little, "I decided to make dinner here, tonight," He said, "I'll save you some leftovers for the morning."

Atsumu said his thanks, and walked with Bokuto through the front of the diner, where they passed Kageyama tapping away on his phone in one of the booths. 

"Night, Kageyama!" Bokuto called as they walked out into the cold night, and Kageyama made a familiar grunting noise that Atsumu had been quick to learn was Kageyama's way of saying 'goodbye'.

"Good luck on your date, tonight, Bokuto," Atsumu said as they parted ways at the end of the street.

"Thanks, Tsum-Tsum!" Bokuto yelled, and almost vibrated with glee.

Atsumu waved goodbye and rolled his shoulder when it stiffened again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those of you who know waitress, yes, those few paragraphs in the middle about bokutos dating profile was the entirety of the 'when he sees me' scene
> 
> also i never realised how hard it is to write lyrics down as dialogue. that was so painful.


	3. A Pretty Good Bad Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> the manipulation is strong in this one.  
> \- no graphic depictions of domestic abuse are shown but it's sprinkled in there  
> \- and a threat of domestic abuse is made  
> -✨biphobia✨

The first red flag should have been when Yoshimi made Atsumu quit volleyball. But at the time, Atsumu believed he was making the choice himself. 

"I just think that my music is the safer option," Yoshimi had said, "Wouldn't ya rather go to Tokyo, than Osaka?"

"I mean, I guess so," Atsumu replied with a sceptical raise of his left eyebrow, "But I'm guaranteed a spot on a Division 1 team if we go to Osaka."

Yoshimi raised a fist to his chin and Atsumu couldn't help but noticed that his contemplative look seemed somewhat patronising, "But we'll earn more if we succeed in the music business."

Atsumu sighed, threw his head back against his pillow, and looked up at the bottom of Osamu's bunk.

"It's not about earning money," He said, "I wanna play volleyball. That's what I like doin', and I'm good at it."

Yoshimi lay down next to him, "It's your choice, 'Tsumu," He said, "But I think yer being selfish choosing yerself over me. I thought ya said ya loved me."

Atsumu rolled onto his side, "Of course I do," He averted his eyes, "But we have a bigger chance of bein' successful with volleyball."

Yoshimi clicked his tongue, "Ya really are a selfish prick, 'Tsumu. I heard the rumours of course, but I never believed them until now."

Atsumu sighed. He didn't really care that people thought he was selfish, or rude, he was a star player. His sets were always flawless, and despite only being eighteen, he was already on his way to becoming one of the countries top players.

"I don't give a shit, Yoshimi," He said, "My volleyball career is a given. Going to Tokyo is a chance I'm not willin' to take."

Yoshimi leaned in close to Atsumu's face, almost as if to kiss him, "I'm sorry you feel that way, 'Tsumu. I guess we'll have to go our separate ways."

Atsumu sat up, "What?" He asked, "You said that no matter which one we choose, we'd go together."

Yoshimi shrugged his shoulder and picked at his cuticles, "That was before I realised how much of a dick ya were. I don't wanna go to Osaka for some asshole who clearly doesn't love me."

Atsumu shook his head and thought about his choices. Yoshimi had basically already asked Atsumu to marry him after graduation, and Tokyo had volleyball teams, too, he just wouldn't be guaranteed a spot on a V.League team. And it wasn't like he was going to screw up his chances of ever going pro if they persued Yoshimi's music first. "Fine, fine. But let me talk it over with my parents. I'll go with you to Tokyo."

Yoshimi sat up and kissed Atsumu, "Good boy," He murmured, "Ya love me more than them, right?" He asked as he pulled away.

"What?"

"You would choose me over yer family if I asked ya to?" Atsumu looked into Yoshimi's eyes.

"Depends on the situation. Different kinds of love, ya know?" It felt like a safe answer, but Yoshimi's face darkened. 

"But ya love me more? I've done so much for you, the least you can do is love me unconditionally." He said with a scowl.

Atsumu frowned. The most Yoshimi had done for him was walk him home from school, and occasionally treat him to lunch. But Yoshimi's hand was tightening uncomfortably over Atsumu's, so he said: "Of course I love ya more, Yoshi-kun."

The crescent moon shapes that Yoshimi's nails had left behind on the back of Atsumu's hand should have been the second red flag.

\---

(" _ ~~Dear Osamu,~~_

 _ ~~'Samu~~_ ,")

"Omi-kun!" Atsumu said into the phone as he sat outside on his lunch break. He was holding the card Sakusa had given him at his first appointment, with the date and time of his next one written on the front. On the back was the neatly printed phone number that Atsumu had just dialled.

"Miya?" Sakusa's voice was muffled on the other end of the line, and Atsumu could only imagine he was wearing the surgical mask. (Atsumu could only imagine what the bottom half of his face looked like.)

"I was just callin' because I have a question and-slash-or concern about my shoulder," Atsumu explained with a breathy laugh.

"Is everything okay?" 

Atsumu rolled his shoulder in the sling, "I think so?" He replied, "It's gotten kinda stiff, and there's, like... a dull throb. Is that normal?"

He heard Sakusa mumble something, and another voice replied. Atsumu wondered if it was his wife. "Uh, you should definitely come in to my office as soon as possible," Sakusa said, and Atsumu felt his skin buzz.

Atsumu smirked as he looked up at the clear, blue sky, "Okay, Omi-Omi~," He sang, "I'll see if I can stop by before work tomorrow. Don't die of anticipation, now."

The sound of Sakusa hanging up the phone with an annoyed huff was the only reply he got, and it made Atsumu laugh loudly.

Atsumu pocketed his phone and looked at his sneakers with a tiny smile. The back and forth banter he had with Sakusa made him feel something like nostalgia. It reminded him of a time when he didn't care if anybody liked him, or when he could say mean things to the people around him and not worry about being seriously injured (at least, he didn't have to worry about trips to the doctors office with a dislocated shoulder or a concussion like he did now. Osamu never hesitated to beat a little sense into him, but it always only ended in a bruise or two, and the unsaid apology of "Wanna watch TV?" that siblings shared after a fight.).

On his way back into the diner, he passed Bokuto leaving for his break. Atsumu brushed some dust off his uniform and checked back in with Hinata in the kitchen before he took the lunch pies out to the front of the diner, to leave in display stands by the bar.

He took a step back and admired the pies with a small sigh. As he looked at the lunch pies sitting proudly on the bar next to the til, Atsumu felt the exhaustion sink deep into his bones. Nothing about that day particularly had been tiring for him, but he was finally over the same routine he had built since he got this job a year ago.

(" _Osamu,_

 _I never though I'd talk to you again, but some friends at work encouraged it. I just wanted to let you know that I'm alive, surprisingly ~~and I wanted to say thank you. For being so good in the kitchen. I don't know where I'd be today if you hadn't let me look over your shoulder~~..._")

Atsumu walked up to a table near the window and smiled, "What can I getcha?" He asked the man sitting at the table.

The man hesitated, "Oh, um..." His voice was soft, but confident, "Can I request another waiter?"

Atsumu chuckled awkwardly, "Uh, no? Yer in my section."

The man pressed his lips together, "Can I move then? To another section?"

Atsumu looked at him in annoyance, but a burst of recognition shot through his spine as his own brown eyes met steel blue. He smirked at the man sitting in front of him.

"Bokuto's on break, right now," Atsumu said to Akaashi, "But he's out back if ya really want to speak to him."

Akaashi's high cheek bones adopted a dusting of pink, and he coughed lightly into his elbow, "Thank you," Akaashi squinted behind his glasses as he read Atsumu's name tag, "Atsumu-san."

"Not a bother, Akaashi," Atsumu said, and he gestured for Akaashi to follow him. 

The diner had been pretty empty, so he didn't feel guilty about leading Akaashi outside to where Bokuto was sitting against the wall and scrolling through his phone, wearing a white and black bomber jacket and a thermos of tea.

"Bokkun~!" Atsumu sang, "You've got a visitor!"

Bokuto looked up from his phone and paused as he met Akaashi's eyes. His face -which has been blank- lit up. "AGHAAWSSHEEE!" He yelled with a grin so wide it looked like it hurt.

"Good afternoon, Bokuto-san," Akaashi moved towards Bokuto with a graceful walk that fit him perfectly. Atsumu would have been head over heels for this man had he not already been married (and head over heels for his doctor).

Atsumu smiled at Bokuto, who had gotten up from the ground and was hopping up and down slightly on the balls of his feet, as Akaashi nodded silently to whatever Bokuto was saying. "I'll leave ya to it!" Atsumu called over his shoulder.

(" _I still live in Tokyo. I'm actually a ~~baker~~ waiter. I have great coworkers, though, so it's not a total bust. How's Suna? And Aran and Kita? I still play volleyball on the weekends with my friends from work, Bokuto and Hinata. I can't play at the moment, cause my arms in a sling. Which explains why my handwriting is so messy haha. Don't worry about that, though. My doctors fixing me up real good_...")

\---

Atsumu's phone vibrated under his pillow the next morning, and he quickly shut off the silent alarm with a wary glance at his sleeping husband. Yoshimi's arm was wrapped tightly around Atsumu's chest, suffocating him. Suffocating Atsumu seemed to be his favourite pastime, these days.

Atsumu removed Yoshimi's arm and went to take the comforter off his body, when he froze at the sound of a deep groan next to him.

"Where're ya goin'?" Yoshimi's sleep slurred voice was muted due to the pillow he had his face buried in.

Atsumu sucked in a breath, "Doctor," He said, "My shoulder's been acting up."

Yoshimi stretched his legs under the comforter and rolled onto his back, "It's not healed by now?" He asked with a sceptical glance, "It was only a sprain."

"Its only been a few weeks," Atsumu said, putting on a pair of socks he found next to the bed, "Omi said it might take a month at least."

Yoshimi was quiet next to him as he looked up at the ceiling, "Who the fuck is Omi?"

Atsumu averted his eyes, "My doctor, Sakusa Kiyoomi. I toldja about him, remember?"

Yoshimi checked his watch, and turned on his side again to face Atsumu, "And he wanted ta see ya this early in the morning?" 

Atsumu groaned, "Ya don't need to worry. He has a wife, and this is probably his only free time to see me."

"Okay..." Yoshimi said, "Why do ya call him Omi if there's nothing to worry about?"

"Because," Atsumu faltered slightly, thinking of an answer that wouldn't leave him with any additional injuries, "Because that's how he introduced himself to me." 

Yoshimi whistled, "Sounds like he wants ya, 'Tsumu." 

"He has a wife. He's not gay," Atsumu slowly moved off the bed, just to create some distance between him and his short tempered husband.

"You weren't gay before ya met me. Who says that he doesn't think yer attractive? Maybe he's willin' ta screw over his wife to experiment, or somethin'?" Yoshimi sat up, and leaned in closer to Atsumu's space. Atsumu felt the uneasy tingling beneath his skin that always appeared when his husband got too close. 

"I'm bisexual," Atsumu said and slipped out of the bed, "And I'm sure he's happily married."

"' _Bisexual_ ' is a term used by gay guys who don't wanna admit that they're gay, and straight girls who wanna feel special. And yer really gonna choose to spend time with some doctor over me?" Yoshimi asked with a frown, "Yer tryna make me feel bad about myself on purpose, right?"

Atsumu ignored the bisexual comment, because they had already argued about it more times than he could count. So instead, Atsumu shook his head, "I'm not choosing him over you," He said, "My shoulder hurts and I need to get it checked out."

"Ya keep bringing up yer fucking shoulder! You made me do that!" Atsumu eyed Yoshimi's clenched fists.

"I'm not talkin' about it ta make you feel guilty," Atsumi said, "I'm just tellin' ya why I need to leave so early."

Yoshimi scoffed, and with a hard stare he said, "If I find out you've been messing around with someone, yer gonna have more than a lightly sprained shoulder, 'Tsumu."

Atsumu visibly shivered, and phantom pains from his older injuries shot through his body.

As Atsumu walked out of their bedroom, an uneasy feeling bubbled in his gut. He hoped Yoshimi was wrong about Sakusa being attracted to him, because his body couldn't handle any more injuries just yet. But another part of Atsumu -the smallest, tiniest part of him- hoped it was true.

(" _Yoshimi is in between jobs at the moment, so he's always at home, which is nice. I started working more hours at the diner to make more money though. I don't really mind_...")

Atsumu thought about it on the bus to Sakusa's office, and when he walked through the front door of the building holding a Wild, Wild Berry Pie in hand and a casual (forced) grin on his face. The uneasiness in his stomach hadn't settled, and he was beginning to think it was permanently etched into his insides.

The feeling increased when he noticed Komori wasn't at his desk like usual, and the waiting room was barren. He was the only person around.

Atsumu walked up to Komori's desk and whistled softly, "Hello~?" He called to the empty room, "I'm here to see Omi-Omi!"

The door to room two opened with a creek and Sakusa popped his masked face through the crack in the door. "Miya," He said and his head jerked to the side, "Come in."

"Slow mornin'?" Atsumu asked, gesturing to the empty office.

"Something like that," Sakusa replied and opened the door wider.

Atsumu followed him into the room and placed his maroon jacket and the pie down on the desk. He took a seat and waited for Sakusa to do the same.

Sakusa eyed the pie for a second before clearing his throat and turning to Atsumu, "So, Miya, what seems to be the problem?"

"Well, Omi-kun," He said, and pushed the pie over to Sakusa across the desk, "Like I said on the phone, my shoulder's been all stiff lately. Like when I try to move it it sorta freezes up?"

Sakusa hummed a little, but he was otherwise preoccupied with the pie. His hand had reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a fork. After he had carefully wiped the fork with a wet wipe, he reached up to take off his mask, and Atsumu felt his breath hitch. 

He had secretly been worried that Sakusa was less than pretty under the mask, and used mysophobia as an excuse to keep acne, or crooked teeth, or something covered. But this was not the case. Sakusa was just as breathtaking as he had been with the mask on. His lips were pink and full, and his jawline was strong. Atsumu cleared his throat as Sakusa picked up some pie with the fork and put it in his mouth.

"So?" Atsumu asked, and tore his eyes away from the berry stains on Sakusa's lips.

"Oh right," Sakusa said as he swallowed, like he had forgotten that Atsumu came here for a reason. Atsumu watched his Adam's apple bob with undivided attention, "That's completely normal. Maybe try some light stretching in the morning and you should be fine."

Atsumu looked up from the doctors throat and stared into his black eyes as he took another bite of pie, "And you couldn't have told me this on the phone when I called?"

Sakusa shrugged unapologetically, "I wanted more pie."

Atsumu thought back to the empty waiting room, and gaped at Sakusa, "What time does this office usually open at?" 

"Nine," Sakusa answered, finally putting down his fork and looking at Atsumu properly.

"So yer tellin' me," Atsumu took a breath, "That you made me take the bus an hour earlier just to tell me it's perfectly normal? Ya could've come into the diner for some fucking pie! I woulda given it to ya for free if ya asked!"

The phantom pains came back again, for a split second. And besides the freezing cold panic that welled in his chest, Atsumu could only feel the weight of Yoshimi's warning.

Atsumu pushed his chair back from the desk, and it scraped along the floor, "I coulda been at home spending time with my husband right now, not in some doctors office for no fucking reason!"

Sakusa scoffed quietly, "Your lazy excuses didn't fool me, Miya. Your husband's a scumbag and I know he fucked up your shoulder."

Atsumu stood up in his seat, "You don't know shit, Sakusa!" He said with a scowl, "And what does yer wife think about you comin' here so early for a slice of pie? Or did ya come here so early for something else? Do ya want me, Omi-kun?" His voice was mean and teasing, and Atsumu felt some satisfaction when the cruel words caused Sakusa to wince a little.

Sakusa stood up, too, and a flash of something Atsumu couldn't decifer crossed his face. But Atsumu was preoccupied with the fact that Sakusa was taller than him, and he had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. How humiliating. "I-" Sakusa's eyes flickered over Atsumu's face, "My wife doesn't know. She's in Okinawa with family."

Atsumu thought about Yoshimi's worries this morning, and what he would think of Sakusa -an attractive, bisexual man- opening his office three hours earlier just to see Atsumu about a symptom that was perfectly normal. Yoshimi definitely wouldn't be happy, and it made Atsumu's chest tighten even more with anxiety. So he grabbed the pie off the desk and stormed out of the room, "I want a new doctor!" He yelled as he slammed the door.

He was mad at Sakusa for putting him in a situation like this, even though he had claimed to know that Yoshimi wasn't the most doting husband. But still, the panic in his chest warmed into something pleasant as he mulled over what had happened. Sakusa had took time out of his morning to see him. The thought warmed Atsumu's cheeks. 

Would it be so bad, Atsumu thought, Yoshimi never had to know.

He took a few steps into the waiting room and walked over to the exit, "Oh, shit," He mumbled as he realised he had forgotten his jacket.

Atsumu walked back over to the door, and opened it, secretly glad he had another excuse to talk to Sakusa. When he walked in, the man was holding his jacket and was just on the other side of the threshold, clearly about to follow Atsumu out. Seeing him without his mask and his purple tinted lips, Atsumu realised he wanted to kiss him. 

So he did.

"You forgot your jacke-" Atsumu dropped the pie on a cabinet next to the door and pushed Sakusa back towards the desk. He yanked him by the neck to press their lips together. The first thing Atsumu noticed was that despite it being Winter, Sakusa's skin smelled like sunscreen. The second thing he noticed was that as soon as their lips touched, Atsumu felt the anxiety bubble back up.

He pulled away and took a step back, "Fuck," He said and wiped his lips with with his hand. His palm came back with a small purple stain from the berry pie filling. "Bye," Atsumu turned on his heel, and tried to run back out into the waiting room, but Sakusa grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait!" He said, and turned Atsumu back around, "I-" He faltered slightly, "I want to see you again. Outside of doctors offices and bus stops. You like volleyball, right?"

Atsumu nodded his head, and gently pried his sleeve from Sakusa's grip. "Right," He continued, "Let's play together. I played in college. I know a few people we could set up a game with."

Atsumu shook his head in shock as his mouth fell open, "I _can't_ play volleyball! Ya told me not to! What kinda doctor are you?"

"Hey!" Sakusa said with a frown, "You're the one who kissed me!"

"Well, yer the one who ate my Mermaid Marshmallow pie, and who decided to be all nice at the bus stop! What the hell was that about?" Atsumu fired back.

Sakusa shook his head with a scoff, "So being nice is an invitation to push your married doctor against a desk and kiss him?!"

"You just asked me on a date," Atsumu glared at Sakusa. 

"Fuck, I can't stand you!"

"Well, I'm not yer biggest fan either, ya little shit!" They breathed together in unison as they glared at each other.

Sakusa took a step closer and looked down his nose at Atsumu. He pushed him towards the examination table and crashed his lips against Atsumu's. 

Despite how soft Sakusa's lips looked, the kiss was all teeth and hard presses of strong hands against cheeks and waists. Atsumu could barely call it a kiss. It was more like two people standing completely still, pressed head to toe together, as they contemplated the relationships they had certainly just ruined with their spouses. But then Atsumu pushed his lips against Sakusa's with a small smirk, and his eyes squeezed shut so hard he could see white pinpoints in the darkness behind his eyelids. Sakusa kissed him back.

It had been a while since he had been kissed without the disgust crawling beneath his skin. Sakusa's hands were kneading into the sides of his hips, similarly to how Atsumu would knead dough in the kitchen. It was different from the suffocating squeeze of Yoshimi's arms around his neck, and the longer nails that pressed into his shoulders.

The little amount of air between them was heavy, and Atsumu leaned into the taste of berry pie and unflavoured chapstick. The kiss made Atsumu's skin prickle in a way it hadn't since Kita Shinsuke had given him a bag of convenience store food with a note telling him to take care of himself when he had gotten sick.

Sakusa seemed wary of deepening the kiss too much, and Atsumu wondered if it was his germ thing. Before he could tell Sakusa that he had, in fact, brushed his teeth that morning, he thought of something else.

Atsumu pulled away from the kiss, without breaking the embrace, "We shouldn't be doing this. You have a wife."

Sakusa nodded, "We definitely shouldn't," He began to nose his way along Atsumu's jaw. Atsumu felt his breath come out of his lungs in shallow gasps at the press of an open mouthed kiss.

"This is a bad idea," Atsumu said, and pulled at the curly hair on the back of Sakusa's head, as his mouth sucked lightly across Atsumu's throat.

"I agree," Sakusa moved back to Atsumu's mouth, and they slotted their lips together. Sakusa asked between light kisses, "What time-" _Kiss_ , "do you have-" _Kiss_ , "to go in to work?" _Kiss_.

Atsumu hummed as he closed his eyes, "Seven."

Sakusa sucked on Atsumu's bottom lip before pulling away, and averting his eyes to the wall behind Atsumu, "That was ten minutes ago."

Atsumu checked his phone, "Oh shit, I need to go!" 

He grabbed his jacket and was about to leave through the door before he turned around and placed a quick kiss to Sakusa's lips, "See you around?"

Sakusa nodded, "Definitely."

(" _Overall, I'm doing okay. Nothing fancy going on._

_I hope everything is good at home,_

_Atsumu._ ")

\---

Atsumu began to put the letters he wrote to Osamu in the couch cushion next to the cash he had saved up, with no intention of ever sending them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: how do I make Yoshimi even worse? ah yes. biphobia
> 
> disclaimer: I have crooked teeth and acne, and I like the way that it looks. Atsumu is still an asshole, even though he is a victim in this story. Just because the version of Atsumu that I have created thinks something you cant help makes you unpretty, doesnt mean it's true. Don't listen to a man with piss coloured hair.
> 
> I wrote this a while ago, but kept putting off posting it. Idk how to feel about this one, but I wanna keep writing this story so it'll have to do for now


	4. I Love You Like A Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> -talk of self harm  
> -referenced domestic abuse  
> (I think that's it for this chapter, but please let me know if there's any that I missed)

Atsumu was surprised when he was the first one to arrive at the diner. He usually was, but he was sure someone would be in before him, thanks to his late appointment with Sakusa. 

But he was grateful that he still had time to himself before the day started, and quickly began making the breakfast pies. He was glad that he had spent an hour in the kitchen after the diner closed the day before preparing the next morning's crusts, because he managed to finish in no time at all, with a half hour to spare. 

With nothing else to do, he began to make another pie. An 'I Wanna Play Doctor With Sakusa Kiyoomi' pie. It was filled with vanilla custard, and drizzled in warm, melted caramel. A handful of nuts (" _Totally nuts. What am I doing? This is insane_.") was added to the topping of honey kissed whipped cream.

"And a banana," Atsumu looked at the banana he had just picked up from the shelf and caught himself, "Hold the banana."

He groaned into his hands, "I need to wake the hell up," He said, and looked down at the Infidelity Pie he had just made.

He put the pie on a tray to the side and began making a new one. The 'I Can't Have An Affair Because It's Wrong And I Don't Want Yoshimi To Kill Me' pie. 

"Cold water added to chocolate syrup," He said aloud, as he began to create the pie, "Poured into a flaky crust."

Atsumu poured the filling into the pie crust and put it onto a tray next to the masterpiece he had created before it, "Don't over bake. It could explode at any minute." He walked over to the oven and caught a glimpse out the window into the diner.

He dropped the pies onto the counter and tried to stifle a shriek. 

At the loud bang of the tray and the muffled noise that had involuntarily come out of Atsumu's throat, Hinata looked up.

"Hinata," Atsumu yelled, "You sly dog!"

Hinata was lying spread eagle on Meian's usual table, red faced and very clearly embarrassed at having Atsumu catch him in the act. From between his legs, Kageyama scowled at Atsumu, who was still looking through the window at the pair.

"Atsumu, close your eyes!" Hinata yelled and waved his arms around, "Don't look, don't _look, don't look_!"

Instead of closing his eyes, Atsumu abandoned his pie making and walked around the kitchen to the door that opened into the diner. When he walked through it, Kageyama had already fixed himself up and was sitting down at the table. Hinata, on the other hand, was pressing his face into the table, like an ostrich trying to bury its head in the sand. Atsumu laughed at the lengths Hinata was taking to avoid eye contact.

"Care to tell me what's goin' on?" Atsumu snickered behind his hand.

"'Tsumu, I swear it just happened," Hinata tried to explain. His words were muffled, and Atsumu could make out his blush, which had creeped to his ears, "It'll never, ever, ever, happen again."

"The only thing I dont understand is why -out of literally anyone- you chose to hook up with _Kageyama_." Atsumu said to the back of Hinata's head.

Hinata flapped his arms out, "It's just-- he has such nice hands! It was an accident, Atsumu!"

Atsumu cackled loudly, "Trippin' over and dropping a few plates is an accident, Shou-kun. Trippin' over and fallin' in such a way that yer dick lands in someone's mouth is not."

Kageyama slapped Hinata on the small of his back, "Dumbass," He turned his attention to Atsumu, "He's wiggin. We've been dating since high school."

Atsumu slapped a hand over his mouth, "High school!?" He asked, "And ya never told me, Shou-kun?"

Hinata whined and turned around, "It's embarrassing!" He said and glared at Kageyama, "And besides, you never told me about the affair you're having!"

Atsumu choked on his own saliva, "The-- the what that I'm having?"

Hinata finally sat up and looked at Atsumu. He gestured vaguely to his own neck, "I know you aren't... _intimate_ with Maruyama."

Atsumu narrowed his eyes at Hinata's hand, "I don't get it," He said, "You think I'm having an affair because I don't have sex with my husband?"

"No," Hinata shook his head and reached up to poke a spot beneath Atsumu's jaw, "But you've got a hickey."

Atsumu felt his blood run cold. How could he have let that happen? How was he supposed to explain that to Yoshimi?

"Oh, fuck," He said and covered the spot on his neck where Hinata had poked, "Is it bad?"

Hinata removed Atsumu's hand and looked at the hickey, "It's not as bad as it could have been," He said with a frown, "But you probably can't play it off as a bruise. It's in an awkward spot."

Atsumu's brain began to chant ' _fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck_ ' and he felt his limbs begin to way him down. His head felt like it had started to fill up with air and he glanced between the two younger men, "Do either of you have concealer or foundation or something? I need to cover this up before Yoshimi sees."

Kageyama shook his head, "My sister used to tell our grandfather that her hickey's were just curling iron burns."

Atsumu kicked Kageyama's leg, "Oh yeah. I'll just use that excuse," He said with a scowl, "I'm sure he won't suspect a fucking thing."

Hinata placed a finger to his chin and tapped it lightly as he thought of another believable excuse. Atsumu could almost see the lightbulb pop up above his head as he smiled up brightly at him, "What if we get a tray out of the oven and burn over the hickey. You can tell Maruyama that you tripped and and the tray burned you."

Atsumu looked down at Hinata. He usually didn't like yelling at the guy, because he always got this kicked puppy look on his face, and Atsumu would feel bad, but this time he was really considering it. "Ya want me to burn myself, and possibly get a scar, just to cover up a 'not that bad' hickey?"

Hinata shrugged, "We don't have to give you first degree burns or anything," He said, "Just enough to cover the hickey and give you an excuse to wear a bandage or something."

"First degree burns are the small ones, moron," Kageyama said, and Hinata replied with a very mature: " _First degree burns are the small ones, moron_."

As he continued to ignore the children arguing beside him, Atsumu thought about it. Yoshimi had started coming to the diner more and more now that he was out of a job. And Atsumu didn't own any kind of makeup to cover up the very damning bruise on his neck. It did seem like the best option.

"Fine," Atsumu said, and Kageyama and Hinata stopped their arguing to look up at the older man in surprise.

\---

Yoshimi never doubted the story. Either Atsumu managed to convince him, or he didn't really care. The 'why' didn't matter to Atsumu, as long as he was off the hook.

The burn was almost completely healed by the time Atsumu was sitting in Sakusa's office again, two weeks later.

"Hello, again, Omi-kun," Atsumu said with an awkward smile as Sakusa and Komori walked into room two.

"Hello, Miya-san, how has your shoulder been?" Sakusa cleared his throat and took the seat opposite Atsumu.

"Fine."

Komori peered over Atsumu's shoulder, "Oh! You brought a pie! What kind is it?"

Atsumu looked down at the pie in his lap, "Poppy Seed Pie," He said with a somewhat forced smile, and Komori snatched the pie up with both hands.

It was something he had baked thinking of Bokuto and Akaashi, and how the two of them already seemed like they were perfect for each other. The 'Makes You Believe Again Poppy Seed Pie'.

"You're so thoughtful, Miya," Komori lifted the pie up to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"Uhh- Motoya," Sakusa said, "Maybe you should... go weigh Sato-kun in room three, again. She asked me to do it before we came in here, but I need to give Miya his checkup."

Komori eyed his cousin over the pie, "I already did that."

"Motoya, it's important. Re-weigh her," Sakusa stood up from his desk to push Komori out of the door.

"I'm talking to Miya, can it wai--"

"Nurse Komori is coming, Sato-kun!" Sakusa shouted out the door, and after giving Komori a final push he closed it.

The room was quiet. And then Sakusa sighed and said, "Don't do that again."

Atsumu raised an eyebrow, "What? Bring a pie?"

Sakusa glared at him, "Obviously not that. Disappearing for two weeks without so much as a phone call."

Atsumu didn't feel all that guilty about going MIA on Sakusa. The guy had left him with a very visible hickey.

So Atsumu just shrugged and stretched his legs out, "I didn't have any questions or concerns," He said.

Sakusa leaned his weight onto his desk in front of Atsumu and looked him up and down. His eyes landed on the pink skin that the burn on his neck left behind, and the Doctor clicked his tongue.

"Was that your husband?" He asked and tilted Atsumu's chin up to get a closer look.

Atsumu glared at him, "No, it was you."

Sakusa dropped his hand and blinked twice in visible confusion, "What?"

Atsumu ran a thumb over the burn mark, "You left a hickey, asshole," He explained, "I had ta hide it somehow."

Sakusa sighed again, "Is that why you never called?"

Atsumu nodded, "We can't continue doing... whatever it is we did," He said, "We're in committed relationships."

"So, we're officially forgetting about it? What happened between us?" Sakusa looked hurt, and Atsumu felt the guilt in his chest.

"Yeah, we are officially forgetting about it. It's for the best." He looked down at his cuticles, and waited for Sakusa to fill the silence that hung heavy in the room.

Atsumu knew neither of them wanted that. He looked up through his eyelashes, and watched as Sakusa slowly took his face mask off, and tapped his index finger against his lips. Atsumu tracked the movement, and noticed that Sakusa seemed to be wearing the unflavoured chapstick that he had been wearing before. The memory of what had happened in this office made him already regret breaking off whatever it was they had.

"Okay," He finally said, "So, from now on our relationship is strictly medical and pro-"

Atsumu reached up and pulled Sakusa's head down to meet his. He pressed their lips together and sighed at the contact. Sakusa pushed him away.

Atsumu and Sakusa looked at each other for a brief moment, before they hungrily latched on to one another again. Atsumu's hand tightened into fists in Sakusa's curly hair, and he felt the other man wrap his arms around Atsumu's chest in some lust filled imitation of a hug.

The door knob twisted open and they sprung apart. Sakusa picked up a file and cleared his throat.

"Sato-kun still weighs fifty four kilograms, Kiyoomi," Komori said with a wide grin.

"Thank you, Motoya," Sakusa said, and then turned to Atsumu, "Have you been doing the stretches I told you to do every morning?"

Atsumu nodded with a smirk, "Faithfully."

Komori giggled from his position at the door, "'Faithfully' my ass."

"Well you seem to be fine," Sakusa continued, "But I'd like to see you again next week, just in case."

"Next week!?" Komori asked, and Atsumu avoided turning around to look at him. 

"Yes!" Sakusa briefly glanced at Komori, before his eyes turned back to Atsumu, "Are we on the same page?"

Atsumu grinned, "We're on the same page."

"Oh, we're alllll on the same page!" Komori cackled one more time before leaving the room. His laughter echoed in the silence that stood between Atsumu and Sakusa.

When the door clicked shut, it was like they had never been interrupted. They clung to each other in desperation, lips moving in sync and their hands tightening into fists -Atsumu's in Sakusa's hair, and Sakusa's in Atsumu's shirt.

Atsumu's heart began to race as Sakusa parted his lips to deepen the kiss. Their tongues brushed together lightly, sending a shiver up Atsumu's spine. Chasing the feeling, Atsumu licked deeper into Sakusa's mouth. Sakusa hummed from the back of his throat and opened his mouth wider.

'I can't come back from this,' A little voice in Atsumu's head whispered while Sakusa sucked lightly on his tongue.

'But do I even want to come back from this?' Another voice -a louder voice- replied.

Atsumu decided the answer to that was no, and pressed his body tighter against Sakusa's.

\---

Meian sat at his regular table, and Atsumu walked over with a wide grin.

"How are ya, Meian-san?" He asked, and got his pen ready to take the mans order.

"Same as yesterday, Miya," He replied with a sly grin, "The question is, how are you?"

Atsumu shrugged, "My life's a train wreck and I wish I was never born."

Atsumu said it with a smile and a lighthearted lilt to his voice. He meant every word, but lately things had started to look up.

"And your fellow?" Meian asked, and flattened his newspaper down on the table. He opened it to a dog eared page, and turned his gaze back up to Atsumu.

"As charming as ever," The lighthearted lilt had quickly turned sour, and Meian shot him a meaningful look.

The older man hummed, "And your bed warmer? The dog on the side? The affair?"

Atsumu choked on his own saliva, "I'm not havin' an affair," He said when he caught his breath, "It's more like a-"

"Yeah, yeah," Meian interrupted, and his eyes moved along the newspaper, "Want to hear your horoscope?"

Atsumu sighed, "No, not reall-"

"Libra," Meian read loudly. Atsumu rolled his eyes, and resisted the urge to stick his tongue out, "'Even if your marriage is a garbage dump, and your husband is a shit bag, you shouldn't have an affair. People might think you're some unfaithful fuck boy, and you could hurt yourself down the line.' Wow these things are accurate."

Atsumu highly doubted that's what his horoscope said, but he was already over this conversation.

So he sighed and decided to move on, "What can I getcha today, Meian-san?"

Meian read through the menu, as if he didn't come into the diner every day. He tapped his chin, "Today I think I want the Tuna Fish Casserole, with a tomato on the side. On it's own plate."

Atsumu jotted it down, "Anything else?" He asked, even though he knew there would be something else.

Meian nodded, "I want the Devil's Food Oasis Pie. That’s the one that you should bake in the contest so you can win the prize money and leave your husband. Then you can have whoever you want to warm your bed."

Atsumu pushed his chest out and looked down at Meian. "Ya really think that pie's good enough to win?"

Meian smiled up at him, "Of course I do! It's a masterpiece. The way the flavours melt together one after the other. Bitter dark chocolate, that feels like an old flame, and sweet strawberries that taste like how strawberries are supposed to taste," Meian tapped his hand against the table, "You know what? Cross everything off my order and just bring me a slice of that pie."

The Devil's Food Oasis Pie was definitely one of his best. It was simple, but he had made it so often that he had it perfected. 

It was a short distance to the bustling kitchen, where he grabbed a slice of the pie and hastily made his way back to Meian.

"Y'know," He said, as Meian put some cash on the table, "You tip me better than anyone. I feel like yer tryna speed up the process."

Meian shrugged, "I may act like I don't, Miya," He started, "But I do care about you. All of you," He nodded in the direction of the uniformed waiters walking up and down the diner. 

"Thank you, Meian," Atsumu bowed with a small smile, before straightening out again. 

As soon as he walked into the kitchen, he was attacked by Bokuto, who was smiling wide and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"If you notice I'm walking a little funny, don't mind me," He said, and looked off to the side with red cheeks and a sigh that was probably considered a squeal.

Atsumu felt his brain go blank. "I hadn't noticed, Bokkun," He said, "But congrats?"

Bokuto slapped his hands against the sides of his face with a high pitched giggle, "You wouldn't know by looking at him, but Akaashi is-" Instead of finishing his sentence in a language anyone understood, Bokuto made another squealing sound and laughed.

Hinata karate chopped Kageyama in the back of the neck, "Maybe you should take some pointers from Akaashi-kun, Kageyama!"

"Maybe you should make the order for table five!" Kageyama fired back with a scowl.

Hinata blew a raspberry at Kageyama and turned back to the stove, "Maybe you'd have a girlfriend if you were as passionate and into poetry and shit like Akkashi is!" 

Hinata's eyes looked like they were filled with stars as he stared up at Kageyama, and Atsumu couldn't help but feel stupid. Now that he knew the two of them had been dating since high school, he felt like a lot of pieces had fit together. The childish insults they would constantly yell at each other was just their very obvious way of flirting.

"It's getting pretty serious, huh?" Atsumu asked, when he turned back to Bokuto.

Bokuto nodded his head enthusiastically, "Yeah. We're gonna throw a party together. Next week," He said. "You're invited!"

Atsumu nodded with a wide grin, "Can I bring a plus one?"

Bokuto looked sceptical, "Maruyama?" He asked with a grimace.

Atsumu laughed loudly, "No," He smiled softly to himself, "Someone else."

\---

Atsumu hummed with his phone pressed against his ear. It picked up after three rings.

"Hey!" Astumu said.

Komori laughed on the other side of the line, "Hey, Miya. What can I do for you today?"

Atsumu sighed like a schoolgirl with a crush, and looked out at the people walking across the street. The bus had been stopped in traffic for a minute or so, but Atsumu didn't really care.

"I'm lookin' to talk to Omi-kun," He said with a smile.

Komori breathed deeply, "Ah shit. He didn't tell you?"

Atsumu felt the good mood drain from his body almost instantaneously, "Tell me what?"

Komori hesitated briefly, "He had to fly to Okinawa to meet his wife. Apparently there was a family emergency."

"Oh shit," It was like Atsumu had been deflated. He slouched in his seat, and breathed out a long huff of air.

"I know you guys have been... getting along," Komori said.

"He told you about that?"

"No," Komori replied, and Atsumu could tell the other man was smiling on the other end of the call, "But you guys weren't subtle at all."

"Yeah," Suddenly Atsumu wasn't in the mood to talk to Komori, or anyone, really. He couldn't blame Sakusa, either. The man had a wife. Meian might have called Sakusa his bed warmer, but Atsumu was the same. _He_ was _Sakusa's_ bed warmer. The thought brought Atsumu unwarranted humiliation.

"I'm sorry, dude," Komori mumbled, and Atsumu found he could do nothing but nod.

"It's fine," He said, "I'll talk to ya later?"

Before Komori could get out one last 'yeah', Atsumu had hung up. 

(" _Dear Osamu,_

_I'm sorry if I don't seem like I used to. Shit happens I guess. You still the same person you were when we were eighteen? I hope you are, cause I really need someone to set me straight, and I dont know Kita-san's address haha so you're my next choice..._ )

Atsumu's bad mood lasted until he got home. If anything, it got worse when he saw Yoshimi lying down on the couch with an empty bottle of sake on the floor and an MMA match on the television.

"Yer home on time for once," He said, when Atsumu attempted to walk into the kitchen unnoticed.

Atsumu swallowed lightly, "Slow day," He said with a shrug.

Yoshimi sat up, "How much did we make?"

His heart began to beat at a pace Atsumu had always associated with long volleyball rallies and action packed three set games. He took half of the tips he had earned that day out of his pocket and handed them to Yoshimi. Despite being split in half, the wad of cash he placed in his husband's outstretched hand was pretty decent. Atsumu's sweaty hands just seemed to just be reflex at this point.

"Not bad," He said with a shrug, and put the cash into his back pocket. "Where's my kiss?"

Yoshimi puckered his lips, and with an uncomfortable shiver beneath his skin, Atsumu leaned in and pressed his lips to Yoshimi's. He couldn't help but compare the sake flavoured, chapped lips of his husband, to the soft and pink ones that's belonged to Sakusa.

Atsumu pulled away, "Um," He said, "Bokuto is having a little get together next week. He asked me to come."

Yoshimi raised an eyebrow, "Who the fuck is Bokuto?"

Despite trying hard to keep his emotions in check around the older man, Atsumu couldn't help but look at him in exasperation. "My coworker? You always say he looks at ya like ya killed his dog."

Yoshimi frowned, "The guy with the ugly hair? No, I don't like him."

"I'm only goin' to meet his boyfriend, it's not a big deal," He said with a scowl.

Yoshimi shrugged, and lay back down on the couch, "That guy is gay? I don't want him hangin' out with ya."

"He has a boyfriend!" Atsumu was almost yelling, and with a sharp look from Yoshimi, he reeled back in his temper. "And he's not into labels, or anything. He likes who he likes."

"Don't care," Yoshimi said, and turned the volume on the television up, "If he likes dick I don't want ya anywhere near him."

Atsumu glared at the side of his head, "What? Dontcha trust me?" He was well aware of the fact that he was cheating on Yoshimi. But he would hold in his laughter until later. There were much more pressing matters.

"Not really, no," Was Yoshimi's unexpected answer. "Yer not slick, 'Tsumu," Atsumu felt his heart rate pick up again, and he wondered if Yoshimi had caught the hickey from a few weeks ago, after all. "Yer probably comin' home later cause that moron is fuckin' ya in the bathrooms of the diner."

Atsumu felt the relief pour over him like water from a cold shower. "I'm not interested in him," He said with a quiet voice, "I have you."

It was clearly the right thing to say, because Yoshimi finally looked back at Atsumu with a smile. "You can go for two hours, tops," He said. His smile turned wicked, before he added on, "And I expect to get some action afterwards."

At this point, Atsumu was willing to agree to any terms, and so he nodded, "Sure."

Yoshimi's smile widened, and he opened his arms, "Come here," He said. Atsumu lay down in front of him on their couch, his back to Yoshimi's chest, and tried to ignore the hard on that was pressed against his hip.

\---

A day before the party at Bokuto's, Atsumu found himself in the kitchen at the diner. Hinata and Kageyama had gone home after they had eaten dinner at Meian's usual table, so he was alone. Thankfully, Yoshimi had gone out with his friends for the night, so Atsumu was free to do whatever he wanted. 

He had offered to bake Bokuto a cake for his little get together, and although his baking skills were rather limited to pies, it was turning out pretty good.

"Smells nice," A sudden voice from behind him made him jump. He grabbed the spoon he had been using to mix the batter, and slashed blindly in the air.

Luckily for Atsumu, Sakusa had pretty good reflexes. He caught Atsumu's wrist effortlessly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Atsumu demanded, and ripped his hand from Sakusa's grip.

Sakusa looked down at the vanilla flavoured cake batter, "Wanted to apologise," He muttered. His voice was muffled behind his mask, but Atsumu caught the pull of his eyebrows and the small scrunch of his nose. Sakusa was sincere, but he was also uncomfortable.

"Apologise for what, Omi?" Atsumu asked, and poured the cake batter into a round tin. "Yer wife needed you. I can't expect to come before her."

Sakusa grabbed Atsumu's wrist again, this time with a little bit of hesitation. "I feel bad," He whispered, "That my mind always drifts to you when I'm with her. And when I should be thinking about her, I'm thinking about you. I'm just so confused."

Atsumu gently pried his wrist from Sakusa's hand, and rubbed his callused fingers back and forth over Sakusa's pale knuckles. "I'm not going to make ya choose between me and her," He murmured. "Because she's yer wife, and ya haven't even known me that long. But I'm not confused. I like ya. Ever since we met, I've liked ya."

Sakusa took a shaky breath in, "And I like you, too. That's why I'm confused," He fell silent. Atsumu could almost see the thoughts race around his mind, before the crease between his eyebrows smoothed out. "I bought you something. As an apology."

Sakusa reached down, and took a deep dish pie tin out of the bag he had placed at his feet, and Atsumu almost felt himself blush. He didn't though, because confessing to Sakusa had already been embarrassing enough.

"Thank you," Atsumu took the tin and looked closer at it, "I don't own one of these for myself, y'know? All of the ones that I use belong to the diner." 

"Can you teach me how to bake a pie?" Sakusa asked, and took a step closer to Atsumu.

Atsumu nodded, "I gotta bake this cake first," He said with a small smile.

Time passed quickly when he baked with Sakusa. Well, it was more Atsumu doing the baking, while Sakusa cleaned up after him. It moved the process along quite swiftly, and Atsumu felt like his cheeks were burning with how much he had been smiling.

The gifted pie tin was placed in front of the two men, and the two vanilla sponge cakes were set off to the side.

"So, Omi-kun," Atsumu clapped his hands together, "What kinda pie do ya wanna make today?"

"Umeboshi?" Sakusa asked almost immediately.

Atsumu smiled at Sakusa, and turned to the pantry to get the preserved fruit from the behind the fresh ingredients, "Ya like plums?" 

Sakusa hummed, "They're my favourite."

"Then sure," Atsumu said, "We'll make an umeboshi pie."

Sakusa's cheeks creased the mask. He was clearly smiling, but his eyes remained stressed. Atsumu looked at him in concern, "Are you okay?"

Sakusa put his face in his hands, "No, not really."

Atsumu placed the plums next to the tin. "Are ya happy with me? Because I really don't understand what about me could be so confusing, Omi?

Sakusa was silent, as Atsumu got some pastry from the fridge.

"I'm not used to happy," Was his eventual reply, "I'm used to neurotic," He took a shaky breath. "And even though you make me feel like I'm going insane, at the same time you calm me down. I don't worry about what you might be thinking, because you tell me. You kiss me when you want to, and you bring me pies, even though I'm supposed to be off sugar."

Atsumu looked up into Sakusa's dark eyes. The two moles on his forehead warped slightly as the crease between his eyebrows returned.

"You matter to me, Kiyoomi," He said, "And I know I matter to you, too."

Sakusa nodded, "You do."

Atsumu took a deep breath, "There's a small party I'm goin' to tomorrow," He mumbled, "I want ya to come with me."

Sakusa's right eye twitched a little, "I'll think about it," He said, and opened the jar of umeboshi.

Before Atsumu could give him any sort of reply, Sakusa pulled him against his chest in a tight embrace. They didn't speak, or look at each other. They just held on to one another, and felt each other's heart beats.

\---

Sakusa didn't come. That was okay. Atsumu knew he had a thing with germs, and maybe telling him that it was a party didn't exactly persuade him to show up. 'Party' was being used very loosely. There were ten people maximum in Bokuto's flat after work. A few people from work, and two of Akaashi's friends.

It was nice. Everyone was laughing, and the air smelled of yakiniku and cheap wine. 

"This cake is delicious, 'Tsumu!" Hinata said, and sprayed Atsumu with cake crumbs as he yelled with his mouth full.

"Thanks, Shoyo-kun," Atsumu said, and smiled down at him.

Hinata swallowed his mouthful of cake and grinned, "I'm betting money on you winning that competition next week!" 

Hinata was the embodiment of sunshine, and for a small second Atsumu was jealous. Jealous of the way he looked at Kageyama and Kageyama looked back, and how they shared small smiles between their constant arguing.

"Would you consider yerself a happy person, Shoyo?" He asked.

Hinata shrugged, "I don't have much, and I dont get much," He replied, "But yeah. I'm happy."

"Right," Atsumu said, and turned his attention to Bokuto, who had stood on his coffee table and started hitting his wine glass with a spoon.

"I would like the make a speech!" He yelled out. Atsumu could already tell this was going to be a disaster, and he couldn't wait to hear it.

"As all of you know," He said with a wide grin, "Akaashi and I are dating! And I just wanted to say a few spontaneous words," The living room seemed to buzz with scattered laughs. Everyone seemed to know how this would turn out. "Akaashi, I know we haven't known each other that long, but I just wanted to say that I love you like a... like a table!"

A collective 'what?' was heard throughout the flat, and Bokuto grinned wider.

"Yeah! I love you like a table!" He gestured to his thighs, "And just like a table, my legs were carved for you!" He jumped down from the table, and hugged a very red faced Akaashi, "Lay anything on me, and I'll hold you up, babe!"

"This metaphor is confusing me," Hinata mumbled next to Atsumu, and all he could do was nod in agreement.

Bokuto and Akaashi separated from their hug. The corner of Akaashi's lips twitched upward, and he looked away from Bokuto with a blush.

"I love you like a table, too, Bokuto-san," He mumbled.

"Yeah!" Atsumu cheered. He walked up to Bokuto and slapped him on the back, "That was poetry, Bokkun!"

"Damn right it was," Bokuto replied with a grin.

Meian walked up to them with a smile on his face. His black hair was slicked back, and Atsumu noticed he seemed to look a lot younger when he wasn't squished into his usual table with a newspaper.

Meian placed a hand on Atsumu's shoulder, "Wanna sit down with me?"

Atsumu nodded, and followed Meian to Bokuto's couch. "Eveything okay, Meian-san?"

The older man nodded, "Yeah," He said, and the two of them sat down, "I wanted to wish you luck next week."

Atsumu smiled, "Thanks," He said, "I wouldn't have entered if it weren't for you."

"You better enter to win, Miya," Meian said, "I'm not rooting for you if you're half assing it."

Atsumu snorted, "I'm not sure which I'm more scared of," He said, "Winnin' or losin'. Maybe I should just learn to live with the life that I have, yaknow?"

Meian raised an eyebrow, "Miya, you better win. Because I'm not gonna be around for long, and I want to see you happy before I have to leave."

Atsumu's eyes widened, and he looked at Meian in confusion, "Yer not dyin' are ya?"

Meian laughed, "No!" He said, "But my wife and I are moving to Osaka next month."

Atsumu frowned, "What's gonna happen to the diner?"

Meian gave Atsumu a sly look, "I found a buyer, I think you-"

"Atsumu!"

Atsumu jumped at the sound of Yoshimi storming across the room. 

"I'm sorry, Tsum-Tsum," Bokuto said, "I told him he couldn't come in, but he just pushed past me."

Atsumu sighed and stood up, "It's okay, Bokuto," He said with a tight smile, "What're ya doin', Yoshimi?"

"We're goin' home, 'Tsumu," He said sharply.

"Come on, Maruyama-san," Hinata said, "He's barely been here an hour!"

"Atsumu, come on!" Atsumu stood up and felt his neck burn in embarrassment. He knew it was easier to just leave with Yoshimi, so he nodded and took a step closer to his husband.

"Miya-san," Akaashi placed a hand on his arm, "You don't have to go."

Atsumu smiled, "I'm fine, Akaashi, really. Thanks for havin' me," He said, and followed Yoshimi out.

The car ride was tense. Yoshimi's knuckles were white with how tightly he was holding onto the steering wheel. His sudden outburst was shocking to Atsumu, because when he had left that morning, Yoshimi was perfectly happy.

What was even more shocking, though, was what he found inside their living room. The couch cushions had been thrown onto the floor, ripped up and discarded. Atsumu felt his blood run cold.

"What the fuck is this?" Yoshimi demanded, and took some cash out of the nearest cushion. "You've been hiding money from me? Please tell me you were gonna surprise me with a gift or somethin'."

Atsumu was silent, as he watched Yoshimi dig out all of the cash he had saved up over the last few weeks.

"Atsumu!" Yoshimi said, "Tell me ya were just saving up to buy me a gift!"

Yoshimi began to walk on his knees, and held Atsumu around his waist tightly. He pressed his face into Atsumu's abdomen, "Tell me ya weren't gonna leave me! Please, Atsumu!"

Atsumu watched his husband on his knees, begging him. "The truth is..." He started, "The truth is..."

' _The truth is that I wanted to buy you a new guitar_ ," Is what he wanted to say. Because the guilt he felt looking down at his crying husband was almost enough to make him stay.

But he knew he would never forgive himself. "The truth is... I don't love ya anymore."

Yoshimi's sobs stopped instantaneously, "What?" He asked. He unwrapped his arms from Atsumu's waist, and he stood up. His tears had already dried, and he was glaring at Atsumu with a look that almost made him cower.

"I don't love ya anymore, Yoshimi," He said again. His voice cracked a little, but he ignored it, and pushed his shoulders back.

"I swear to God, Atsumu, if this is about that fucking doctor," Yoshimi's voice was deep, and Atsumu shivered.

"So what if it is," He said, and looked off the the side.

When Yoshimi didn't answer, Atsumu looked back at him, just in time to see the guitar swinging quickly towards his chest.

( _I forget what I used to be like, sometimes. Every day, I think about the potential that I had. How I could make even amateur players look like aces. I wonder what it would have been like to play pro. Or what it would be like to play on a real team with Bokuto and Hinata. I would give everything I have for a chance to start over._

_If you ever want to know what happened to the money I saved up to start a new life, I'm sure Yoshimi could show you his new guitar. God knows he needs one, after he smashed the old one to pieces._

_Osamu, I hope you found someone who makes you happy. Who holds you for twenty minutes, and doesn't ask to kiss you, or even look at you. He just holds on tight and makes sure you're okay._

_I was supposed to enter a pie baking contest next week, but I can safely assume that I will not be in attendance._

_Atsumu_.")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say I'd update soon? Oops...
> 
> Also!!!! My favourite english dub moment is where kageyama asks Hinata if he's "wiggin" and honestly that is so funny.
> 
> I love you like a table is a song from waitress. I thought I'd give the lines to Bokuto lol
> 
> One more chapter to go after this 🥺🥺 it's more of an epilogue, so keep an eye out for it
> 
> And for those of you who know waitress, the endings will NOT be the same :p


End file.
